


you said you liked my coldplay shirt

by beneathyourbravery



Series: how did we end up here? [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bisexuality, Character Study, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mentions of religion, Minor Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Minor Kim Jungwoo/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, Pining, Roommates, Semi-Explicit sexual content, Slow Burn, Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 49,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25445158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beneathyourbravery/pseuds/beneathyourbravery
Summary: “yukhei’s a grown up man — ‘overgrown’, if one were to ask ten —, who should be held accountable for his actions and take responsibility of his wrongdoings.not that jerking mark lee off in the faculty’s bathroom between classes is wrong; it’s far from wrong, actually.”yukhei leaves hong kong for seoul to attend university, meets a bunch of friends who change the way he sees life and falls into the hurricane that is mark lee.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Series: how did we end up here? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1957891
Comments: 64
Kudos: 281





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i had a dream in quarantine that gave me the motivation i needed to start writing nct fiction for the first time ever, and then it spiraled out of hand and i ended up creating this monstrosity and another fanfic you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25343110).
> 
> this work will have three chapters, which are mostly finished by now but i’ll have to revise before posting. still, i hope you’ll side with me during this ride and enjoy what lumark have to offer us in this little au!
> 
> title from [5sos - end up here](https://youtu.be/twvIUIfdTwo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no additional warnings apply for this first chapter

as it tends to happen with most good things in life, if someone had told yukhei a few months ago that events would unfold in the way they did, he probably would have never believed he’d end up here — _here_ being all hunched up in a bathroom stall in the public affairs and economics faculty, his teeth engraved on mark lee’s shoulder, heavy breathing against his neck, hands sticky with both their releases. 

in the grand scheme of things, he supposes kim jungwoo is to blame. not that jungwoo knows about what he and mark do; nobody really _knows_ , to be fair, and even if he did, he probably wouldn’t care about whose pants yukhei’s hands sneak into these days. blaming it on him, yukhei reasons, is both selfish and a little bit immature. he’s a grown up man — ‘overgrown’, if one were to ask ten —, who should be held accountable for his actions and take responsibility of his wrongdoings. 

(not that jerking mark lee off in the faculty’s bathroom between classes is wrong; it’s far from wrong, actually, because the boy gives a mean blowjob for someone who claims to be absolutely, painfully straight, and yukhei is nothing if not grateful. what was he supposed to do when mark sent him a text during the last hour of his social welfare policy lecture asking to meet _‘because i can’t stop thinking about you’_ , say no?)

whatever. yukhei’s thoughts tend to become messy when mark lee is near. he should probably dig deeper into the implications that affirmation has, but instead he chooses to wipe his hands clean on a piece of coarse toilet paper, weighing the words on his tongue for a second before he speaks.

“beers later with the boys?” he asks at last, voice still a little bit shaky, because renjun has been nagging about it forever.

mark smiles, a bit dazedly in yukhei’s eyes, and nods his head a beat too late when he’s done buttoning his pants. 

“will be there,” he exhales before leaving yukhei on the stall, softening dick still out, lips longing for one last kiss mark doesn’t give him. 

it’s become a routine. 

yukhei tries not to think too much about it. 

(the truth is, he does think about it. he thinks about it when he’s bored in class, gaze lost as he stares at nothing, teeth tight around the tip of his pen. he thinks about it, too, when he lays on his single bed at night when he’s alone in the room, panting as he stares at the ceiling, his belly stained with drying come. he thinks about it when mark’s soft lips make their way down his neck and light up his whole body on fire. 

yukhei himself, he decides in the end, is probably the only one to blame. he was never really good at resisting pretty things, anyways.)

  
  
  


:::::

  
  
  


when the taxi pulls up to the college dorm, yukhei feels something akin to dread licking at the the pit of his stomach, his throat suddenly too dry for him to swallow comfortably. he’s been feeling like this since the moment he said goodbye to his parents and crossed the security threshold in hong kong, his whole life reduced to a handbag and the suitcase he dropped at check in upon walking into the airport. knowing that he’s finally at his destination, though, just makes his nerves spike up into a sour taste at the back of his mouth, a feeling he doesn’t remember ever having experienced at an intensity this high. 

although it doesn’t feel like it to yukhei, who’s a little bit dumbfounded on the backseat of the car, time keeps passing at a normal speed around him, and so he forces himself to push past the tightness in his chest, flashes a kind smile to the driver as he pays for the trip and exits the vehicle. 

in a minute, his luggage is sitting at his feet and he’s suddenly standing in front of the building that serves as housing for most international students arriving to seoul university, and in that exact moment, instead of excitement at the prospect of a new beginning far from home, he feels nothing but loneliness. 

there is a steady traffic of people entering and leaving the dorm through the main entrance, and although nobody spares a glance to the tall boy trying to pick up his things so he can enter the place which will be his house for, at least, the following four years, yukhei can’t help but feel as if he just doesn’t belong; he should have stayed home, always too adventurous for his own good, alone in a place so foreign he can do nothing but force himself to walk into the building as if on autopilot, suitcase rolling noisily behind him, wide eyes giving away just how scared he is, always too transparent. 

checking in into the dorm is, thankfully, not as difficult as yukhei’s anxious mind had led him to believe it would be, and before he has time to realise it he’s standing in front of the open door of what will be his room for the year, eyes scanning the sight before him as his hand grips the handle of his bag a little tighter. there are some things — a backpack, a tablet, a phone charger — scattered around the left side of the room, although there’s nobody inside. yukhei guesses his roommate must have gone somewhere, and he takes it as an opportunity to unpack everything before he has to meet him.

the bedroom ends up being much smaller than yukhei had imagined from the images on the dorm’s website. furniture is distributed in a way that makes the narrow space able to fit two people in it without looking too packed, but it lacks enough floor space for him to move around without potentially disturbing whoever he has to share the bedroom with. 

there are two single beds pressed in parallel against opposite walls, separated by a gap in between them that is just wide enough for yukhei to walk across to the space behind them. basic linen sits atop the one yukhei knows has been reserved for him, on the right side of the room; untucked sheets and messy pillows decorate the mattress on the left side, and it makes him frown a little. he really is not one for messiness. the headboards simply the side boards of the desks, one for each resident, office chairs turned against each other right behind the beds. in the remaining space — which isn’t much, yukhei reckons — there are two small closets and several drawers, and a ridiculously small ensuite bathroom right next to the entrance door.

yukhei has to remind himself to breathe and calm down at the prospect of sharing such a small space with a (potentially messy) stranger. it must be this way, he supposes, for everyone arriving on their first year, and so he pushes past the uneasiness growing in his belly and leaves his bag on the bed at the right side of the room, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he decides to hurry up and tidy his stuff before his roommate arrives and he is forced to make social interaction. 

it is not a secret that yukhei likes people. he likes talking, to the point that some could say that he talks way too much for what should be acceptable upon first meeting, and is not shy in the least when it comes to making new friends. 

it is the awkwardness of the current situation that makes him uncomfortable. he is going to have to share his living space with whoever occupies the second bed for a whole _year_ , and what if they don’t get along? what if they can’t even communicate? yukhei’s english is good, and while both his mandarin and korean are a bit rusted but working still, he doesn’t think he can do well with someone that doesn’t really understand what he’s saying. he wonders if, maybe, they will set him up with another cantonese speaker. that would be a good thing, and he’s overthinking again, he realises. 

suddenly, as he tries to push himself out of his trance to keep taking crumpled clothes out of the suitcase, the bedroom door is violently kicked open, and a loud scream resonates into the room next. 

yukhei turns around in panic to see a boy holding a hand to his chest under the doorframe, brown hair curling slightly around wide doe eyes as he stares at yukhei as if he had just seen a ghost. 

“ _shit dude_ , you scared me!” he squeals in english, voice breathy and agitated in a way that makes yukhei feel guilty even though he didn’t, quite literally, do anything to startle him 

“uh,” yukhei mumbles confusedly, taking his eyes off the boy to look around the room in embarrassment. a sheepish blush creeps up into his cheeks, uninvited. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to,” he ends up saying, giving him a small smile as he pushes himself off the floor where he had been sitting. “i’m wong yukhei, it’s nice to meet you?”

the stranger — his _roommate_ , yukhei corrects himself —, seems to take a beat too long to process his words. he smiles back at him soon enough, though, offering him a hand to shake. yukhei copies his movement, reaching over with his own.

“mark lee, it’s good to meet you too,” he says politely, tilting his head to the side as their hands meet in a soft grip. “wow, you’re really tall,” he comments, as if on awe, before chuckling softly. “man, i’m sorry for the entrance i made. i wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”

it can’t have been more than a couple of minutes since mark lee walked into the room, a few seconds since yukhei learnt his name, and yet he can already tell that they’re really going to get along. mark looks like a really easy going person, honestly, and the way he speaks to yukhei leads him to believe that he could, perhaps, become the first friend he makes in seoul. the thought is both exciting and extremely comforting. 

“it’s fine, i’m sorry. i would’ve been scared too,” he returns the soft laughing sound at him, tilting his head to the side. “where are you from?” he asks, then, because the way mark structures his name — family name last — and how fluently he speaks english contrasts wildly with his looks, and it has yukhei feeling at a loss when he tries to guess. 

“oh,” mark laughs awkwardly, finally closing the door to the room and moving to sit on his messy bed, pillow falling to the ground with the motion. yukhei subconsciously frowns. “i’m from canada! my parents are korean, but this is actually my first time in the country. i only got here last night,” he explains, words quick, smile never leaving his lips. he’s cute, yukhei decides. he really hopes they can be friends. “i’m fluent in korean too, though, so like if you’d rather talk like that… i don’t know, just tell me.”

“that’s cool!” yukhei rushes to assure him with a nod of his head. “i’m from hong kong,” he offers simply before returning to his duty of unpacking his clothes, still facing mark in case he wants to continue talking to him. “i don’t mind english, but korean is good too. like, i’ve been studying for quite a while so. yeah.”

“cool,” the canadian replies, but yukhei can tell that he’s not thinking about it anymore. instad, he suddenly gasps and claps his hands together once, eyes lighting up with newfound excitement. “dude, do you wanna finish unpacking like right now or… cause like, i know someone on the fifth floor, do you wanna come meet him with me?”

“uhm,” the question, yukhei will admit, catches him off guard for two reasons. mark did say that he only arrived to the dorms the previous night, and it is not even noon today, so how is it possible for him to have made a friend already? and also, the upper floors, as far as he knows, are reserved for older students; freshmen like them have their rooms in the first and second floors. 

but yukhei is not stupid. making new friends is probably the first thing he had been worried about when he decided to move to seoul for college, and letting the opportunity pass when presented to him like this, on a silver plate by his very own roomate, would be anything but wise. 

on a side note, he really, _really_ wants to hang out with mark and see if the boy is as much a potential friend as he believes him to be. 

“sure!” he ends up saying, “unpacking can wait. everything is already crumpled, anyways,” he chuckles, standing up and mindlessly wiping his hands on his jeans.

“tell me about it,” mark laughs, louder than yukhei’s stupid and definitely-not-funny comment would have required him to, and pushes himself off the mattress with a small jump. “man, do you know how to iron stuff? cause i totally don’t.”

yukhei does — his mother made sure to teach him how to return a shirt back to something wearable before he was allowed to put them in his suitcase —, but the high pitched tilt in mark’s voice as he asks is enough to stop him from giving him an awkward reply, laughing alongside the boy instead as he follows him outside the room. 

“we’ll get by, i’m sure.”

and, just like that, everything starts. 

⋇

the junior rooms in the fifth floor, yukhei learns, are a little bit bigger than the one he and mark lee share. although the space is still cramped with both furniture and things accumulated by the residents during their previous years at the dorms, there’s room for a little built-in kitchen right on the opposite wall to the ensuite door, since they, unlike freshmen, aren’t required to have their meals in the dorm communal dining room. 

mark’s friend, as intimidating as he is at first glance, resembles more a giant teddy bear than any other thing that yukhei’s mind could come up with. albeit he is definitely more built than yukhei, they’re almost the same height, something that is both surprising and really nice — he’s so used to hunching around his friends that he honestly does appreciate having someone match him in height. when they walk into the room, he welcomes them with a wide smile and then does a weird, kind of messy handshake with mark that leaves yukhei wondering, once again, how they became friends. 

“what’s up man? i’m johnny, it’s good to meet you,” he says once he and mark are done clapping their hands together, giving yukhei a much simpler, more traditional handshake and smiling at him. “good luck sharing a room with mark, he’s probably the messiest person i’ve ever met.”

“hey!” mark whines from where he’s thrown himself over johnny’s bed, by no means refraining from invading the older’s space. “that’s not true, i’ve grown up now!”

yukhei thinks, briefly, about the ruffled sheets and half-thrown pillows draped over mark’s bed in their room, and chuckles softly as he shakes johnny’s hand back. 

“wong yukhei, it’s nice to meet you too,” yukhei offers him a big smile in return, glancing briefly between mark and johnny as he tries to solve the enigma in his head — what do they know each other from?

same language, a familiar handshake, mentions of the past, apparently absolute comfort being all up in each other’s space. after a few seconds, something clicks and yukhei’s mind lights up with realization, and he all but gasps, mouth parted open halfway as he looks between them once again with a glint in his eye.

“oh man! you two are brothers, right?” he says, grinning at mark excitedly.

the room goes quiet for a moment and yukhei’s smile falters for a second as he wonders, worriedly, if he’s said something wrong — was his english off? did he mess up already? he doesn’t have much more time to worry, though, as suddenly both mark and johnny burst out into a loud fit of giggles.

“dude! oh my god,” mark cries, leg kicking the bed violently as he laughs, as if yukhei had just cracked the funniest joke on earth. “again!”

“uhm,” yukhei has, in all honesty, never felt this lost before. he wishes, in the blink of an eye, for the floor to crack open and swallow him whole. anything to save him from the flames of an unknown kind of embarrassment now licking at the back of his neck. 

“sorry, fuck, i’m sorry man. we’re not laughing at you, i swear,” johnny finally manages to wheeze between giggles, shaking his head. “i’m so sorry, it’s just. we’ve been asked the same question like, twenty times in the past few hours.”

“yeah, and it’s kinda really funny! we don’t even look alike, like, at all,” mark chuckles, sitting up on the bed as he seems to finally manage to get a grip of himself and stop crying with laughter, eyes wide in amusement as he stares at them.

yukhei lets out a soft _oh_ , cheeks tinting with a light shade of red as he laughs awkwardly.

as it turns out to be, according to johnny, the thing is that usually everybody thinks he and mark are brothers because they act like they are. he tells yukhei how they met five years ago in a summer camp in the states — which mark attended to obtain a lifeguard certificate while he worked with the kids in there and where johnny had been an instructor for a couple years already —, and how they became so close that not even the distance between chicago and vancouver, which later became south korea and canada, was able to hinder their growing friendship. apparently, he and mark talk so often and intimately that johnny’s roommate thought for a solid five months that they were actual brothers, until johnny outright told him they are not, indeed, blood related at all. 

(that same night, while sharing a beer with him, mark will tell yukhei that johnny had been the reason why he’d had the courage to leave the comfort of his home, his own experience the best kind of hope for a kid desperate for a little taste of freedom, his friendship the one mark treasures the most). 

yukhei laughs softly along to johnny’s story, making himself comfortable on his desk chair once he’s granted permission and sparing glances at mark to take in his overly enthusiastic expressions, the way he claps his hands when something sounds overwhelmingly funny to him, how he has to wipe laughter-induced tears away from his eyes whenever johnny remarks specially funny details. 

mark’s so invested in johnny’s storytelling that, at a given point, he has to stand up to go to the bathroom from too much laughter, and yukhei takes the opportunity to answer johnny’s questions about his boring trip from hong kong to seoul and his expectations of sharing a room with the mark lee, who is, in johnny’s eyes, both the messiest person he’s ever met and a total _sweetheart_. 

“i think we’ll get along,” yukhei says softly, smile tugging at his lips. “he sounds like he’s fun to be with. i really like that.”

and mark is about to say something as he exits the tiny ensuite, already halfway to throw himself back on johnny’s bed right next to the older, when suddenly the door is being violently kicked open _again_ — do people not know how to open doors properly in this country?, yukhei wonders — and another boy is throwing a rolling suitcase to the ground right under the door frame before raising his arms above his head. 

“johnny, have you missed me?” he asks theatrically, and he’s grinning as he says so, white teeth bared in a quasi-feline way. 

“oh, you know i have not,” johnny replies with a chuckle and a roll of his eyes, despite the way he’s rushing to stand up and give a tight hug to the newcomer. “i’ve appreciated getting a couple nights of sleep in here without hearing your annoying snores.”

yukhei guesses that the boy must be johnny’s roommate, and as he gets another glance at him, he concludes that he does look rather intimidating as well, with bleached lilac hair falling over heavily pierced ears and cat-like eyes. yukhei hopes that he will be at least as nice as johnny — he really wants to make new friends.

mark, yukhei notices, is still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room while johnny and his roomate hug, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waits for them to be finished. yukhei pities him, and he’s about to stand and reach over to him when there’s, suddenly, a loud gasp resonating into the room.

“holy shit, it’s mark lee!” johnny’s roommate all but screams, and then he’s running to hug him too while mark lets out an awkward laugh. yukhei tilts his head in utter confusion. _does mark already know literally everyone in this dorm?_

“yah, hyung, you’re crushing me!” mark whines, patting the other’s back until he’s finally left free. 

“you have no idea how long i’ve been waiting to meet you! johnny has been talking about you for ages,” yuta tells mark, korean dripping from his lips like honey. “no wonder he has! you’re so cute and, oh,” and it seems he finally spots yukhei standing awkwardly at the back of the room, for he shoots him a smile much warmer than yukhei had expected him to and waves at him. “hello! i’m yuta, it’s nice to meet you.”

“hi,” yukhei returns the smile and the wave, chuckling softly. it takes him a beat too long, maybe, to recall how to introduce himself in korean, but he manages a soft, “wong yukhei, it’s nice to meet you too.”

“he’s my roommate,” mark clarifies, already sitting back on johnny’s bed, feet dangerously close to the pillow. yukhei grimaces internally.

“cute,” yuta grins, and he wastes no time in draping himself over mark like he’s known him for his whole life, arm wrapped around him from the side when he finally sits properly.

yukhei watches them as he sits back on the desk chair, and catches johnny rolling his eyes as he settles on the ground between both beds. it makes him feel bad, and so yukhei stands up to sit next to him, a silent offer for him to take his chair. johnny doesn’t take it.

“you knew each other already?” yukhei ends up asking, gazing up at the boys sitting on top of the bed. korean tastes weird from disuse on his tongue, but it’s good to try and get it back on track. he’s going to need it, anyways, so the sooner he starts practicing, the better it’ll be in the end. 

“i, ah,” mark huffs when yuta tightens his arms around his middle with a giggle. “i’ve been on videocall with johnny hyung like, a thousand times since he first moved to seoul. it feels as if i’ve known yuta hyung and all his other close friends forever.”

“i’ve been sharing a room with johnny since our first year,” yuta explains with a nod, feet dangling off the bed. “i’ve heard endless talks about mark lee and how he wanted to move to seoul like his hyung.”

the tone behind yuta’s voice is teasing, yet the way he hugs mark and how the younger laughs makes it clear that he’s completely comfortable with it. johnny laughs, too, and so yukhei imitates them as well. 

it feels nice, not being alone when he believed he would be. 

after a short while of talking about their summer and how mark and yukhei made it to the dorms from their homes, johnny perks up beside yukhei and looks at yuta with wide eyes, lips slightly parted even before he speaks, as if awestruck. 

“ten just told me he’s about to get here,” he says, and it sounds to yukhei, for a lack of a better word, _pouty_. “can we go greet him downstairs? please?”

yukhei has no idea who ten is, but he nods his head when yuta agrees and puts on his shoes next to mark before they leave the room. mark nudges his arm while they do so, asks him if he’s felt comfortable. yukhei tells him yes, and they rush to follow the older boys down to the lobby.

the fifth floor, as yukhei will soon come to understand, will end up feeling more like home than their very own room.

⋇

despite not having known johnny for longer than an hour now, yukhei can feel just how giddy he is as they wait for whoever it is they are waiting for to arrive. johnny is physically vibrating when a taxi, just like the one that brought yukhei there, stops in front of the dorm entrance. a petite boy climbs out of the backseat into the oddly empty street — it’s lunchtime already, yukhei notices —, thanking the driver profusely as the man makes a move to unload his luggage from the truck. his eyes look around a couple of times, searching, until they land on yukhei and his group (can he call them that already, so soon?), and then he’s running and directly _jumping_ into johnny’s awaiting arms. johnny must’ve been expecting him to, as he tightens his arms around him and spins them around a couple of times until ten is shrieking for him to stop. 

yukhei thinks to himself that they must be very good friends — maybe ten _is_ johnny’s best friend, after all, if how excited he had been to go greet him was anything to go by —, but then johnny is looking into ten’s eyes for a second before the smaller boy grabs his face and kisses him like he needs it to breathe and. _oh_.

“they’re so fucking gross,” yuta groans, rolling his eyes at the glare ten gives him when he hears. “the rest of us still exist, you know!”

“well, sorry for having missed my boyfriend who i haven’t seen in three literal months!” ten shoots back in reply before johnny is placing him back down on the ground, fondness drowning his eyes as he makes to pick up ten’s bags from where the taxi driver had left them before leaving. 

yukhei is still a little shocked at the sudden display of affection, as if the mere sight of johnny kissing this boy had given him whiplash. mark seems to notice, nudges his arm a little. 

“you okay man?” he asks, brows furrowed.

“yeah,” yukhei assures him, chuckling albeit a little bit breathless. “i just really wasn’t expecting that.”

“do you have any problem?” ten is suddenly standing in front of him, and although yukhei has a good height difference on him, he speaks with such confidence that yukhei feels _small_. it takes him a second to catch on ten’s menacing expression, brows furrowed as if he’s ready to burn him down to ashes if he says the wrong thing. yukhei doesn’t really have to think about his answer, though, for it is clear in his head.

“what? oh, no, no, of course not!” he exclaims quickly, shaking his hands in front of himself in a profuse gesture of denial. “i really really don’t! it was just surprising. but not in a bad way!”

ten’s eyes remain locked with his for a few more seconds, factions pulled into a serious frown before he chuckles and smiles at him so brightly that yukhei feels as if he’s staring directly at the sun, the contrast so blinding he almost can’t breathe.

“good. you’re like, crazy handsome, but i’m glad you’re not an asshole,” he says simply, like there is a direct relationship between those two things. yukhei is a bit astonished. “i’m ten! and you are…?”

“uh, thanks? i’m wong yukhei,” he introduces himself, a confused smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

“he’s my roommate!” mark suddenly chirps from his side, as if the mere fact of them sharing a room is yukhei’s most characteristic trait. 

given how everyone seems to adore mark already, yukhei supposes that it might as well be.

“would you look at that, it’s my markie!” ten almost yells as he rushes to hug him as well.

ten is, yukhei decides as he watches him greet mark like he’s his very own son, utterly terrifying and also someone so interesting that he can’t help but want to know better. and they might’ve not started in the best way, but that is surely soon to change. 

⋇

yukhei’s first and only ever relationship wasn’t even all that much of one. he’d just started high school, and the girl who sat next to him in class had been nice and cute and they had kissed after class one day, and then the day after that too, and she’d started calling him her boyfriend and yukhei supposed she was his girlfriend then. and he had really appreciated her, but when she said she loved him and yukhei returned the words they tasted foreign in his mouth. and he’d felt like a liar, then, because they’d trusted each other in every way he could think of back then — in his childhood bed when his parents weren’t home one afternoon, uncoordinated limbs still growing —, and yet his heart hadn’t skipped a beat when he’d said it. they broke up soon after that, but when he thinks about it now, he thinks he might’ve loved her like a friend, really, because love was too big of a feeling for a kid like him. 

it still feels like one, in his first year of college, listening to his new friends tell their story. 

johnny and ten have been dating for almost a year. they met at a party at the beginning of johnny’s second year of college, ten’s first. their story is not all that romantic, ten explains with vivid gestures of his hands where he sits on johnny’s lap back on the older’s bed, johnny sipping on what he claims it is his third coffee of the day — they hooked up, liked each other and simply started dating. johnny shares his cup with ten and he takes a long sip, a content noise on the back of his throat. 

“your coffee taste is the best,” ten coos, and yuta makes another gagging noise in the background.

they make, admittedly, a very good couple, and yukhei is amazed at how easy they make it seem — dating another man, in a country where it’s not something most people would approve of. it’s the same in hong kong, and yukhei finds that he really, _really_ admires how they’re both seemingly not scared of it at all, how it doesn’t sound like a big deal to any of them, how ten had been ready to drag him to the ground if it had been necessary, had yukhei been an asshole to them; and as he listens to them bicker and laugh and lean against each other, yukhei wishes he too could have always been like that; unafraid to love, brave not only to the world, but to himself too.

ten perks up from his spot when yukhei says he comes from hong kong, mischievous smile reaching his eyes as he looks over at yuta. 

“does he know sicheng already?” he asks, his tone slightly teasing.

yuta doesn’t even raise a brow at the question, back resting against the wall beside his own bed as he busies himself with his phone. 

“i guess not,” he shrugs, finally, seemingly unphased. yukhei senses there’s something more to it when he adds, after a short beat, “he’s your roommate, anyways. introduce them yourself.”

“wow, defensive much,” ten rolls his eyes, earns himself a light squeeze from johnny’s hand resting on his waist.

“anyways! why don’t we host a little welcome party tonight?” johnny interrupts, shying the topic away from whatever it is that makes yuta so uncomfortable. “nothing big, just us here and some drinks, huh? i’ll tell taeyong to come over too, he’s supposed to arrive today to his dorm.”

they all agree excitedly, and yukhei watches how mark claps his hands in delight at the prospect of what promises to be a fun night. yukhei doesn’t have any better plans, his personal schedule blank after unpacking his bags, which shouldn’t take him too long anyways. syllabus week doesn’t start until a couple days from now, classes beginning the week after; getting drunk with his newly made friends sounds just about perfect, right now. 

when he leaves to finally do the unpacking, mark follows him to their room although yukhei assures him he doesn’t have to. 

“dude, i need to take a break from them or i’ll go crazy, they’re fucking _loud_ ,” mark chuckles as they make their way down the stairs to the first floor. “we should go buy some drinks too, hyung said there’s a place right down the street.”

yukhei puts away all his stuff into his designated space while mark plays some american song with a catchy beat on his phone, and later they walk together to the small store mark knew about and bring back to the dorms about twenty cans of beer.

it feels exciting, yukhei can’t deny; the beginning of his college life adventure, starting off with good luck right from the start.

⋇

meeting the rest of johnny’s friends goes a little like this: 

  1. sicheng’s eyes light up the second he walks into johnny’s room and spots yukhei sitting awkwardly on the edge of yuta’s bed, and he walks up to him excitedly, recognition of a familiarity he’d longed for dripping from his features.  
  
“hi!” he chirps in mandarin, smile reaching up to his eyes, pink hair bouncing as he bounces slightly on the balls of his feet. “my name’s sicheng, you’re chinese too, right?” 

yukhei finds the glow surrounding sicheng as he speaks so utterly endearing that he feels like he owes him a hug or something. he opts for returning the smile, though, and a little wave of his hand. 

“yeah! i’m yukhei, i come from hong kong,” he replies, mandarin fluent like a water current on his tongue, and watches as sicheng nods contently.

“sichengie finally has someone he can speak chinese with!” ten teases from where he’s stocking beer cans in the small freezer. 

johnny proceeds to introduce him to mark, then, and as the rest of the boys they were waiting for to start drinking make their way into the room, yukhei doesn’t notice how yuta drifts to the furthest spot in the room from sicheng, troubled eyes and serious face as he taps away on his phone. 

  2. lee taeyong looks intimidating for about .4 seconds before he sees mark and proceeds to spend a good ten minutes gushing about how long he’s been waiting to meet him and how cute he is. he lives at the other dorms, like most korean students do, and he’s sweet and funny and yukhei likes him even before he learns his name. 

mark, yukhei has noticed, does not really enjoy being the center of attention, but he knows how to talk in a way that makes him understand how he has about everyone wrapped around his pinky finger. “have you met my roommate?” mark asks taeyong, then, and points across the room to yukhei.

“damn, you’re tall,” taeyong laughs as he greets him with a polite nod of his head, and yukhei just laughs and introduces himself. 

  3. kim jungwoo is new, too, yukhei discovers; a second year transfer student from another university, taeyong’s high school friend. he stands awkwardly with his back against the doorframe until taeyong introduces him to everyone, and his round cheeks flame with a red hue as he bows in greeting, shy eyes dancing around the room for a second before he says his name.

“hey,” yukhei smiles at him when they come to stand across each other, a weird sense of camaraderie between them, a silent kind of understanding; _i too am new, it’s also hard for me_. “i’m wong yukhei! it’s nice to meet you."

jungwoo smiles back at him, nods his head as he listens to his words, and yukhei is sort of blinded by the gentleness of it all. “let’s get along well, yukhei,” jungwoo giggles, and he’s cute in a way that makes him unable to stop smiling.




once all the introductions have been made, they all move to sit in a circle, some of them on the edges of the beds, some on the floor. there are cold drinks in their hands as they talk, stories of different summers and lives shared as they bond over beer and soju and wine. 

yukhei ends up seated on the padded ground between yuta and sicheng, and it only takes him a drink to realise that there is a kind of tension between them that he feels although can’t really put his finger on what it _is_. all he knows is that yuta never meets sicheng’s eyes when the younger speaks, and that they try to avoid talking to each other as much as possible. 

(and sicheng will never tell yukhei about what happened between them, not exactly, but he will know anyways because friendship is one complex thing and there are truths so inherent to humans that you just cannot hide forever, no matter how badly you’d like to).

yukhei learns that sicheng is ten’s roommate, their room also in the same floor as johnny’s, and that he seems to know way more about him than he would really like to. they’re in the same year, and as much as their personalities differ, johnny comments on how they’ve become so close that it’s hard for them to be away from each other, these days. he learns that ten’s tongue is quick where his mind is sharp, so naturally funny that he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more at ease with anyone after having just met them; that taeyong is in the same course as yuta, and that together with johnny, they make the most inseparable team, best friends since they met each other three years ago already. he learns, too, about kim jungwoo, confidence dripping in his tone contrasting with the cutesy vibe he exudes. 

he’d already learnt about mark lee that same sunny afternoon, about how easy it is to make him laugh, and how attentively he listens, how he dislikes loneliness as much as yukhei does, and how much of a good match they are for each other. theirs is going to be a cherished kind of friendship for yukhei, he already knows.

when yukhei is halfway through his part of his and mark’s beer stash, someone — probably taeyong — proposes playing a game of never have i ever, and ten is so excited about it that they all have no choice but to comply.

he hadn’t been too sure about it, but after a few rounds yukhei has discovered way too many things about everyone for it to be embarrassing, be it his first night at the dorm or not. 

they’ve made it halfway through the circle, it is ten who asks the question next. 

“never have i ever…” he starts, smirk already creeping into his face. “kissed another boy!”

there’s a collective groan resonating around him, ten giggling as he takes a long sip from his drink.

yukhei’s cheeks heat up against his will, and his hands feel a little slippery around his beer can. he doesn’t think he’s drunk enough for this, and the option of lying is so appealing that he’s almost tempted to take it. but next to him yuta and sicheng are drinking, and although he’s too nervous to really pay attention to it, he thinks he catches a glimpse of jungwoo and taeyong lifting their drinks to their lips, and yukhei thinks that if there’s ever been a chance at being honest about himself, this must be it. 

he doesn’t dare to lift his gaze from the ground as he takes a quick sip of his beer, but the sky doesn’t crack open when he puts the can down and the ground doesn’t swallow him alive for it and his ears are burning, but no one says anything about it and yukhei thinks that, even if they did, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. 

“what? really? am i the only one who hasn’t?” mark laughs in surprise from across him, and yukhei finally takes a glance around him. everyone’s still the same as they were a mere minute ago, and so he forces himself to relax his posture and unclench his fingers from where they’re nervously gripping the hem of his own shirt. 

“you’re clearly missing out,” yuta winks at him, and mark returns a gagging noise with absolutely zero malice behind. 

mark is entirely, proudly straight, as he announces when yuta keeps up with the topic by saying that he, just like johnny, is bi. taeyong, ten and sicheng don’t say anything, but they smile warmly at jungwoo when he says he’s gay, and yukhei guesses they’re going to expect him to say something now, the last one of the new kids. and he has never felt the need to state his sexuality before, really, because he still likes girls and how soft and pretty they are, even after he kissed that one beautiful boy in his last year of high school and dreamed about him for weeks on end; knows he could do the same and stay quiet, as he always has, but it feels as if he’ll explode if he doesn’t let it all out right now, when he’s finally dared to admit it in public, kind of. 

the occasion feels inevitably inviting, yukhei finds, and he only realizes he’s had his mouth open as if on the verge of speaking for a while when ten lets out a soft giggle as if he can see right through him. johnny elbows him on the ribs and yukhei finds that it’s very likely that ten can read his mind — he is, honestly, still a little scary —, but the look in his face is kind of encouraging, and so he clears his throat and manages to barely stutter as he speaks. 

“i, uh. i like girls,” he says, and winces when he notices how it sounds like the sentence isn’t finished. everyone has probably already figured what’s going on inside his head, so yukhei guesses it’d be worse not to say anything. “but i kissed a boy in high school, once. like, we made out, you know? and it was… nice and i liked it but, yeah. i don’t know.”

there’s only white noise resonating inside his skull when the words are out, and his chest tightens at the realisation that he’s _said_ it; has told these people he met a few hours ago what he’s never been able to admit to himself before — that it had been nice, that he’d liked it, that it hadn’t felt _wrong_. he’s probably going crazy. 

“aw,” it’s sicheng who coos, placing a reassuring hand on yukhei’s thigh where he sits next to him on the floor. “that’s all fine! it’s okay not to have things clear right now, really. you’re just about to start college, it’s just the perfect time to discover yourself.”

yukhei wants to thank him, but his mouth feels as if it’s full of cotton, and all he manages is a sort of wavering smile before his eyes shift back towards where mark sits on the desk chair. 

“dude, it’s fine. really,” johnny says softly. “it’s okay not to know yet, trust me. you’ll have more than enough time to learn.”

but then mark nods at him and suddenly yukhei feels much, much calmer than he did a few seconds before. 

and it may have been obvious that no one there was going to judge him for it, when the majority of them felt similarly to yukhei, yet he had been nervous about them thinking differently, maybe badly of him for not even knowing what he liked. but as he thinks about it, he is right at the start of a new life, where nobody knows him and where he can be whoever he wants to be; and for years, all that yukhei has wanted to be is _happy_ , to feel free and worry less and have fun way more than he used to. as ten grins and climbs of johnny’s lap to give yukhei a hug he didn’t even know he needed, despite the fact that he doesn’t really know him at all, he recognises the opportunity right at the reach of his hand. 

he doesn’t think it twice before taking it. 

⋇

the sun filters into the room through the flimsy blinds covering the window a couple of hours after they go to sleep, seven am flashing on the red numbers of the digital clock resting on a shelf. yukhei has always been a light sleeper, so it comes as no surprise that he doesn’t manage to fall asleep again once the warm rays make their way to drape themselves across his closed eyes.

mark lee, on the contrary, is sleeping soundly all curled up in his messy bed, with the covers halfway into falling to the ground, ever the heavy sleeper yukhei has been warned about. 

it’s his first morning waking up in this bed he now calls his in the dorms, and although his head is starting to throb with the inevitable threat of a hangover, yukhei pushes himself off the mattress and into the shower, a painkiller already under his tongue. breakfast, he recalls as he scrubs the sweat off his face, is served in the dining room until ten, and his stomach rumbles at the thought of food. 

he only trips over his feet once walking downstairs to the ground floor in his hangover induced state, and fills his tray with as much food as he is allowed to before making his way over to sit at an almost empty table. he isn’t into a talkative mood this early in the morning, really, and given how there are only a few other people having breakfast at this hour, yukhei guesses that the two boys sitting across to each other a couple seats from him won’t be either. 

he is wrong. 

“good morning,” one of them says, dark brown hair parted at the middle and kind smile directed towards yukhei. “sorry for bothering you, we were just wondering if you’re chinese?”

it’s too early, and yukhei’s too tired, but the boy’s korean is heavily laced with an accent so familiar to him that he can’t help but smile.

“yeah,” he chuckles, turning a little in his chair to face the other boys. “i’m from hong kong.”

the one who didn’t speak raises his thick eyebrows, apparently happy with his answer, and nudges his colleague with his foot under the table. 

“see? i told you he was! ha,” and it is cantonese he speaks, like a balm to yukhei’s ears after navigating through different languages the previous day. like a little piece of home. 

“whatever, dejun” the boy who spoke first rolls his eyes at his friend’s antics before returning to yukhei. “i’m kunhang! good to meet you.”

“i’m yukhei,” he gives them one of his most sincere smiles, already giddy to know them better. early morning or not, yukhei just really likes people. “i’m glad to hear some cantonese, finally.”

it might be a sign — he thinks later, when they share kakao id’s and make a groupchat before they part ways —, finding a piece of home in a new place, no matter how far you are. a promise, kind of, that you can build roots anywhere. 

⋇

the start of college had seemed like more of a big event than it actually is, summer is inevitably ending, and september is still september no matter how far from home yukhei is. still, his experience in seoul so far has been so gratifying that, by the time syllabus week rolls to an end, yukhei’s sure he catches sight in the mirror of fine lines appearing around his eyes from laughing so much. 

in the mornings, he shares breakfast with mark lee before they leave the dorms together, schedules fairly similar despite being in different degrees. luckily enough, mark’s international relations degree and yukhei’s social welfare one are imparted at the same faculty, and so they can share their morning walks to class, too, already inseparable after a mere week of knowing each other. 

yukhei attends introductory lectures that make subjects sound much more interesting than they will turn out to be in the end, talks to people in his class in the accented korean he’s been studying for years now, and spends the afternoons walking around seoul with johnny and his friends. he brings kunhang and dejun along, and ten introduces them to kun, another chinese student from his creative writing class, and sicheng is delighted he gets to hang out with other chinese people, used to being the only one in his group. 

the language barrier feels a little bit difficult to overcome, when half of them share a language the other half cannot speak; and yeah, dejun may spend more time talking to the chinese boys than he does to jungwoo and the rest of koreans taeyong brings along sometimes, but yukhei laughs at kun’s jokes as much as he does at johnny’s, and it still feels like they’re creating something akin to a friend group that he wants to cherish forever. 

at night, if they’re not sharing drinks or ramen in one of the the fifth floor rooms, too tired from waking up early and resenting the semi-permanent state of hangover first week of uni has them all in, yukhei and mark will have dinner at the common dining room with dejun and kunhang, and then they’ll stay up till four in the morning talking about nothing and everything at once, each in his own single bed, getting to know every crevice about the other’s life until sleep takes over them and finally summerges the room in the most comfortable kind of quietness. 

right before unconsciousness catches up to yukhei’s tired mind, when mark is already snoring softly into the darkness, he thinks about how he’s never had a friend quite like him, who makes sharing details about his life as easy as laughing at a bad joke, and he falls asleep with a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

mark lee, yukhei knows, is going to have an impact in his life, no doubt.

⋇

when yukhei was about to start high school, his dad asked him if he’d ever thought about leaving hong kong. the question had come as a surprise, for a kid who’d only ever known his city and who hadn’t ever really stopped to think about the future, no ideas about what he’d do once the time to choose came around. 

his father had told him, then, about how he’d gone abroad to korea to study, back in his day, in which were to him the best years of his life. he’d met yukhei’s mom there, and by the time he’d finished telling a tale of what sounded to him like the best kind of fantasy, yukhei had been stunned.

that day, a seed had been planted on yukhei’s mind, a curiosity that grew over the years into the strongest desire of discovering new places and learning the world. 

yukhei made sure to study korean all the way through high school, his father a stern but understanding teacher, and when graduation had come round, he had already managed to obtain a scholarship that would allow him to attend university in seoul; a dream that hadn’t quite felt like one when he had to say goodbye to everything he’d ever known, his whole life comprised in two rolling suitcases. 

so, yukhei’s korean is fairly good for someone who’s never been to korea before, as taeyong and jungwoo make sure to tell him every so often. but as much a good teacher as his father was, as hard as yukhei’s studied the language for years prior to landing in the dorms in seoul, the thing is that there are some things that yukhei just cannot learn by himself.

the first time they all go out clubbing together, yukhei’s so absolutely buzzing with excitement and so happy to be having fun with his friends that it takes him a while to process things as they happen. 

he’s got a drink in his hand as he laughs along with sicheng and taeyong when mark follows a girl to the dancefloor, hands laced together, when he feels eyes on him and lifts his gaze to spot someone watching him in between the mass of bodies moving together. she’s an objectively pretty girl, longish hair dyed orange and black clothes hugging slight curves in all the right places, and yukhei sort of wants to approach her and talk to her but finds himself not knowing how to. 

flirting, he discovers, is not something he’s been taught how to do in a language that’s not his own. 

still, the girl walks over to him and before he has any time to think about what to say, she’s wrapping her fingers around his own and dragging him to dance with her, ten’s cheering noises fading in the background as he meets her eyes again. 

that night, yukhei learns how the korean word for _handsome_ sounds like coming from soft pink stained lips first, and then some other words when her hands travel underneath his shirt in a hidden corner of the club.

⋇

college life is not as exciting as the movies make it seem, but yukhei’s so happy with his that he doesn’t care about spending more hours writing essays in the library than getting shit drunk at parties. there’s still time for that, of course, during the weekends when first-semester midterms don’t gloom over them and taeyong claims he absolutely _needs_ to get laid before he goes crazy — nights that tend to end up with mark taking a girl back to their room and yukhei sleeping in another girl’s bed —, but overall routine takes over them in the nicest of ways. 

social welfare is not the most common thing one says he dreams to study when asked about it in high school, but yukhei’s always been really appreciative of his mother’s work in the field and seoul offers an attractive enough programme that he knows it’s his place the second he scrolls through degree offers in the university webpage for the first time. he would like to make the world a better place, he thinks, and so he tries his best through every subject he’s met with in college despite them feeling a little bit too vague for what he wants to achieve. 

it’s by chance that mark and jungwoo are in the same faculty as him, but yukhei appreciates getting to share lunch and study sessions with them more often than he’s able to with the rest of his friends. they grow closer like that, albeit in such a different way that it sometimes makes his head spin when he thinks about the directions in which his relationship with them evolves.

jungwoo is an economics major, and he is cute and affectionate in a way that makes yukhei’s throat feel raw. when they’re alone in the library, mark’s schedule not aligning with the gaps in their own ones, it feels like they can’t get any work done because of how they keep mindlessly sparing glances at each other; cheeks flushing despite yukhei not really understanding what goes on inside him when he’s with the older, a fuzzy feeling inside his chest when their hands brush as they walk quickly down empty corridors when they’re late for their next class. 

but jungwoo, no matter how confused he makes yukhei feel about everything, he can understand, because he’s more transparent than anything else, and yukhei looks at him and finds he can see right through him, want clear as an exhibit on his open chest. it’s a strange feeling, knowing you’re wanted but not knowing if you want too, but yukhei still knows no matter how scary it is to think about, and doesn’t really shy away from it.

but mark lee. 

mark lee is the single most confusing human yukhei’s ever met, and spending the majority of his days with him is not enough for him to finish understanding what goes on inside the canadian’s brain. still, when they’re together bickering about which movie to watch or where to go for drinks after classes on a friday, yukhei thinks there’s no one in the world he’d rather be with, no one who could understand him better than mark does.

time passes in a strange way when you’re wrapped in a bubble of both college-related fun and duty, days passing slowly but weeks flying away in minutes. it might have been barely more than a month since mark and yukhei met, yet yukhei feels like he’s known him forever. 

shared meals with questionable food from the corner’s 24-hours convenience store when they’re back from the library past the dorm’s dining schedule and late night talks in the darkness of their room lead to yukhei discovering most crevices of mark lee’s past, and trust flourishes between them in such a way that yukhei doesn’t feel shy telling mark about the feelings and stories he holds closest to his heart. 

it is during one of the latter kind of nights, when the lights in their room have been off for hours yet they can’t bring themselves to stop talking, that yukhei talks about missing his parents and mourning the loss of his grandad a few years back for the first time, and that mark opens up to him like a book and spills facts about himself like hot milk pouring out of a breaking glass. 

international relations was never mark’s dream career, but creative writing did not sound ideal to his parents and he’s never really been one to go against their word. back home, yukhei learns, mark’s parents are stricter than mark’s easygoing social nature leads to think, his mother warning him against the temptations that college life would hold to mark before they all attended church together on sunday one last time before mark left for seoul, a climax to the heavily religious tones that soak mark’s family values and beliefs. 

and believe, despite how much he likes a one night stand on a saturday night, mark lee does, because he’s been brought up like that and it’s not something he’s ashamed to show. yukhei’s never been one to pray, but he knows mark does every night when yukhei’s in the shower, a worn out bible resting on a corner of his messy desk, and it’s something he respects as much as he doesn’t understand. 

(still, when the lights are out and everything’s dark, mark tells yukhei about leaving home because he craved freedom, a taste of liberty he would’ve never had if he’d stayed back in canada. and that, yukhei can understand, because freedom is something he’d wanted, too, despite home and hong kong never feeling like a cage to him.

human beings are greedy like that, that yukhei knows, for they always want to be freer and freer until flying like birds does not sound as crazy as it is.)

living with mark lee also teaches yukhei some lessons about tolerance that he would’ve never learnt had he not been absolutely dazzled by his roommate’s personality. 

tidiness is something that’s been engraved in yukhei’s mind ever since he was a kid, his parents reinforcing the need for things to be clean and in place as if lightning would strike them if some kind of mess was present in their household. by now, yukhei’s developed a sixth sense that just lets him _know_ if something’s out of its rightful place, an itch on the back of his neck that does not go away until he’s made sure everything is in order. 

mark’s sense of order is, for a lack of a better word, inexistent. yukhei’d been warned about it since the very first moment he met johnny, but experiencing it first hand puts his nerves at test and ends up shaping his patience to standards he would’ve never believed possible. mark’s covers are often draped onto the floor, his books and papers scattered messily around his desk along with uncapped pens and wrinkled post-its, and he doesn’t see a problem with putting his feet on his pillow even before he showers. 

yukhei complained about it the first time, and the second, and the third; by the fourth, he’d grown so fond of mark that he’d just let it slip. and yukhei’s side of the room can be sparkly clean, he finds, as much as mark’s can be an utter mess, because coexisting with him is possible for as long as mark keeps his feet away from yukhei’s bed.

they’re good together, because as different as they are, they complete the other the best. yukhei’s never had a friend quite like him before, with whom he can share most hours of his day without getting tired of it.

a sort of best friend, yukhei thinks as he smiles to himself, that he’d never got to experience before.

(during lunch, jungwoo giggles at yukhei’s lame stories, silly little tales about hong kong and dejun and kunhang’s antics, and yukhei can’t help but compare the almost flirty sound to mark’s cackling laughter and amused tears that are by now the usual response to most things yukhei says. 

so yeah, they’re different, yukhei concludes, because kim jungwoo doesn’t want to just be his friend and mark lee is more like a brother to him than anything else. 

the truth is simple, and yet it feels tremendous inside his chest, takes too much space and doesn’t leave enough room for him to think clear.)

⋇

yukhei’s never really been one to see things clear at a first glance, but there’s been something he’s known since the very first moment they started hanging out together: kim jungwoo likes him, and the knowledge gawks at the insides of his ribcage at night and doesn’t let him rest. 

there’s something else he knows, a truth that he kind of treasures a little now, one of the few things he’s not unsure about these days: yukhei likes girls, plain and simple, loves the way their lips taste against his own and how the weight of their chests feel under his hands. 

“yukhei,” ten sighs, giving him a pointed look from where he’s sitting cross legged on his bed, sipping on what’s probably his third cup of coffee of the day in his hand — he and johnny share that habit, the caffeine addiction yukhei tries to steer away from. sicheng’s in class, and yukhei is glad that he can talk about this with ten in private.

it’s strange, the way in which he and ten become close. yukhei usually thinks that there’s nothing he can’t talk about with mark lee, but then sometimes his mind gets entangled with thoughts that feel immense and he’s left struggling to even put words in his mouth, and he stays quiet, his worries threatening to eat him alive.

ten’s always seemed like the supportive type to him. when yukhei first introduced everyone to kunhang and dejun, it was ten and sicheng who made sure they were comfortable. ten’s been studying mandarin for a while, he’d said, and it was easy like that. the first time yukhei panics over college work and missing home, looking for ten is the thought that flashes first through his head; they’d ended up talking about life for a couple hours after yukhei asked him to meet, and then it was easy like that, too, finding comfort in a human being rather than a place. ten, yukhei reasons, feels like an older brother to him; wiser, brighter, a reliable wall against which he can lean.

“yukhei, are you listening to me?” ten groans, a little bit exasperated, and it’s probably not the first time he’s tried to start a conversation in the last five minutes.

“huh,” yukhei’s startled, and he receives an eyeroll in return so painted with fondness that he can’t help but feel a little bit shy about it. 

“i was saying that it doesn’t have to be either black or white,” ten says, voice soft and comforting like a warm glass of milk before going to sleep. “you can like jungwoo _and_ still like girls, you know.”

and bisexuality is a thing that yukhei knows, too, because his parents are quite open minded for the generation they belong to and have always made sure their son knew about diversity and equality. but still, when he meets jungwoo’s eyes and sees the way the older looks at him, the good kind of nerves brewing in his belly are offset by the terrifying feeling that thinking he might not be what he’s always believed himself to awakes in his chest — the same, already familiar sensation of being a liar he promised he would never allow himself to feel again, a kind of change that he’s not sure to be able to brace himself for.

“i don’t know if i like him, though,” yukhei mumbles, and that too sounds like a lie to his own ears, but ten doesn’t comment on it.

“you can allow yourself to try, yukhei, baby,” ten says instead, hand reaching up to pet yukhei’s hair as if he were the puppy yukhei knows he sees him as. “you’re not asking for his hand in marriage, jesus. just see if you’re comfortable with him, and from then on, well. we’ll see when the time comes, hm?”

it sounds simple enough, trying to learn himself. he thinks about taking the chance, and when it doesn’t sound as scary as it did an hour ago, freedom tastes closer than ever at the back of his tongue when yukhei nods his head. 

a smile pulls at his cheeks when ten asks if he wants to drink some wine before sicheng comes back for dinner, and it’s easy just like that; being yourself, yukhei realizes, is much easier than holding back.

⋇

everybody is looking for love during their first college year (and their second, and their third. yukhei knows because he listens to taeyong’s whines about being single when they share drinks on the fifth floor.)

yukhei knows he’s lucky, having found the kindest sort of partner right from the start of his university adventure, but the weight of commitment is heavy on his chest and makes him wary of his every breath. 

autumn is coming to an end the first time jungwoo kisses him. his lips taste like the strawberry lollipop he had been eating while they walked back to the dorms area from class, and yukhei finds himself loving the gentleness of it all. his hands rest on jungwoo’s waist, jungwoo’s on his shoulders. his eyelashes flutter against yukhei’s cheek, and yukhei wonders, briefly, if this is what being enamoured feels like; a static, comfortable feeling warming his chest, light hands over soft skin. jungwoo feels like a soothing balm inside him, gentle and secure and yukhei never wants to let him go.

dating jungwoo feels natural, sort of, after all. they’ve both been new and had friends in common and really, jungwoo is so beautiful yukhei doesn’t think there’s anyone in the world that could reject him. and yukhei thinks jungwoo understands him, and he makes him feel safe, and he feels like the luckiest man in the world when they hold hands on their way back to the dorms. 

still, being with jungwoo is easy in a way that makes him wonder if that’s how love is supposed to work, if it’s all about familiarity and less about illusion and excitement and want. but jungwoo is soft and gentle and being with him feels healing, in a self-discovering sort of way. 

yukhei learns jungwoo’s body first, and his own second, and in the process he rediscovers things inside his brain that had always been there yet he’d never been able to see. 

⋇

dating jungwoo is not, in any way, an impediment for yukhei’s ever growing friendship with mark lee. 

mark’d been a little wary about it, at the start, because in the end the three of them spent a lot of time together back at the faculty, and he’d feared they’d want him to stop hanging around them now that they’re officially a thing. and yukhei gets where mark’s coming from, really, but when he’d told him about his thoughts the same night he and jungwoo told everyone the news, yukhei had only fondly rolled his eyes and patted his shoulder. 

“dude, are you an idiot or what?” yukhei’d grinned, getting an elbow to the ribs in return from mark. “seriously, nothing’s changing. we like hanging out with you. man, you know i do.”

“yeah,” mark had ended up chuckling with a shake of his head. “just, i don’t know. we’re bros before anything else, right?”

and yeah, they are, yukhei had assured him with a smile as they got ready for sleep that night, and dating jungwoo wasn’t gonna change it because it had nothing to do with their friendship at all. and he and mark still do things together on their own, and when their friends gather together yukhei might be a little closer to jungwoo than he’d previously been, but that’s okay because everyone teases them about it and it’s, as always, all right. 

(yukhei silently wishes, during those rare times in which everyone gathers in one of the hyung’s rooms, that it’d happen more often — that dejun and kunhang and sicheng weren’t as prone to decline a hangout invitation with johnny and yuta and them as much as they are —, but untold stories and furtive glances give away much more than words do. ten doesn’t push it, and so yukhei won’t, either, but the little slice of longing is still marked on his heart, a wish for something that’ll never change anyways.)

mark’s dating adventures are not an impediment for his and yukhei’s friendship either, but he’s not really open about them and they never last more than a handful of weeks, so yukhei never gets to know if the last girl mark dated was in his class or if he’d just met her on a random night out. yukhei guesses, when he’s spending the afternoon at ten’s room helping the older with an assignment for his mandarin class, that mark probably shares his relationship-related worries with taeyong and johnny just how he does with ten. 

and it’s natural, yukhei reasons, because johnny and taeyong are protective of mark similarly to how ten becomes of him, stories different but hearts worn on the sleeve as clear as the summer sky. mark tells him, some nights, about how johnny is the closest thing to an older brother he has, and about how cool his taeyong hyung is, how he’s kind and gentle and dotes on him despite mark telling him not to. the knowledge sits warm inside yukhei’s chest, because that too, he and mark have in common: they might not be able to help each other all the way in certain matters, but relying on other people that make them feel safe and loved does not hinder at all the way they feel about each other; the best of friends, they claim together on a drunken fifth floor adventure on a tuesday night after finals, all hugs and laughter that feels more like home than any place ever could. 

it all feels like a dream, yukhei and mark comment on some nights, sort of; the way things fell into place so easily, so naturally that one would think that they’d known each other all their lives. and taking it for granted, yukhei does not, because he knows how fragile beautiful things tend to be, thin bubbles that could pop at any moment and shatter everything; but enjoying every day no matter how much routine takes up on him is something he forces himself to do, if only to forget about the threat of that beautiful harmony faltering somehow.

it feels like a dream, the most pleasant kind of one, so waking up is hard and leaves everyone a little bit dizzy, a confused sway between the unreal and the fact. 

johnny and ten break up right after second term midterms are done, and the news hit yukhei so hard that he almost gets whiplash. ten sniffles after telling him, all bundled up in his single bed, sicheng sitting on the edge of the mattress looking as serious as ever, and yukhei’s never felt this lost. 

“but,” yukhei finally blabbers, eyes dancing between his two friends. “why, what happened? weren’t you two perfectly fine yesterday?”

it takes a short while for ten to calm down enough to sit up, dabbing away the tears still clinging to his eyelashes before he takes a deep breath, a shrug making way on his shoulders. 

“yeah, we’re just,” he starts, huffing when his voice crack. “man, nothing’s really happened, you know? we just… it’s been feeling weird, these past couple months. of course we’re super fond of each other and like, the sex is bomb,” yukhei grimaces, because that he does not want to know. ten doesn’t pay him any mind as he continues talking. “but lately it’s been… we don’t feel as close to each other as we used to, i guess. since i’ve started hanging out more with you guys and he’s been all wrapped up with mark and the others we’ve just, you know. it’s not the same as it used to be before, and at the start it was fine, but it feels like we’ve run out of love, kind of.”

yukhei and sicheng stay silent as ten keeps rambling; pat his back when he gets a little bit emotional, because johnny was his first ever serious relationship, and ending things wasn’t easy for any of them, and sicheng tries his best at making ten laugh despite it all. 

yukhei gives him the warmest hug he can, runs his fingers through ten’s hair when he buries his face in his chest, a comfort he knows the older needs. when ten pulls away, he takes a deep breath and clears his throat, looks right over at sicheng before a smirk pulls at his lips, a soft laugh escaping them before he speaks. 

“well, you know what it means, now that i’m single again,” he grins, winking at yukhei then. “shit’s about to get crazy.”

and he’s not all that serious, yukhei can tell, because johnny’s still recent and the wound will take some time to heal. and ten may stop drinking coffee — claiming that tea is the only thing able to keep him running through the day now —, but the both of them will stay friends, and johnny will still welcome yukhei when they hang out together, because breaking up was for the best, really. ten and johnny, they both deserved someone who could be as in love with them as they’d been when they started dating, and they’d known how to understand that and make a move for things to change. yukhei admires them, has done so ever since he’d first met them, because once again, they show him what bravery looks like; the thing he’s always wished to have, the guts to do what’s right, no fear for the pain it may cause. 

and it will take a while, but ten’s smile has never really faltered, not even when he’d been going through the last stage of his relationship with johnny, realising that things would not work any more and that they were over even before they broke up, and so yukhei knows he will be okay. 

when dejun and kunhang join them in the room for a collective cuddle-and-ice cream session, yukhei thinks with a smile that things probably happen for the best, fate not always drawing the easiest path towards happiness, but leading you towards there anyways. and ten will be okay, because good people deserve good things, and they always end up getting them, no matter how much it takes. 

yeah, he will be okay. they all will.

⋇

it’s a little ironic, yukhei thinks, how afraid he’d always been when it came to love yet how little talking about their relationship with jungwoo scares him. there was no fear when he first had pressed their lips together, when autumn leaves were still falling and they started dating; just like how there’s no fear right now, sitting on a wooden bench by the river, flowers blossoming with the warmth of the spring, light breeze carrying words as if they weigh nothing at all. 

“i think we should break up,” jungwoo says, his eyes lost on the spot where water meets the far horizon, absent from yukhei’s side in a perfect personification of the direction their relationship had been taking lately. yukhei stares at his profile as he speaks the way one stares at their favourite painting: from afar, wishing to touch and get lost in between the traces, to know every little secret hidden behind precious details, and always unable to. 

“what?” and it’s not a question, not really, because yukhei knows that the decision has been made way before this moment, knows that there is nothing he can do about it, and yet yearns to know if jungwoo was able to pinpoint the exact moment everything went downhill for them, if he has the reply to all the questions he’s silently piled up inside his chest for months, if he believes it will fix it all. 

“we should break up,” jungwoo repeats, cautiously, as if yukhei were a roaring lion and not the docile puppy everyone knows he is. “because i’m not in love with you, yukhei, and you’re not in love with me.”

it should feel strange, to have someone see so clearly through you, pull your heart out of your chest and dissect it to understand every little question you were never able to really answer, but finally having the truth splayed out between them after so long turns out to be quite a pleasant sensation, albeit still painful. yukhei’d tried his best, since the very first moment, because jungwoo is kind and soft and everything he needed, sweet and caring and the best experience yukhei’s had so far, and yet. 

there’s a word yukhei’s scared to say in every language he speaks, a feeling his heart seems not ready to process; the everlasting knowledge that he can’t stop lying to himself, that love just cannot find a way inside him, the desperation out of another failed attempt.

“i met someone,” jungwoo says, then, and it’s like he’s finally back inside the body sitting next to him on the wooden bench. it’s not enough to bring them closer, though, the distance between them a thousand light-years and no spaceship in sight to make the journey. “i don’t know if he likes me, or if it’ll work, or if anything will happen at all, but it feels special.”

yukhei’s eyes haven’t stopped staring at him since they first sat down, what feels like a decade ago, but when jungwoo finally turns to face him, he sees a spark in him that just wasn’t there all this time, and something breaks inside his ribcage because jungwoo is right, and it shouldn’t hurt so much but it does and he really, really doesn’t want to cry. it’s getting harder not to.

“i wanted it to feel special with you too, you know,” jungwoo’s smiling, now, his hand resting on top of yukhei’s one last time, his touch gentle where his words are harsh. “i just think we both deserve better. i hope you’ll understand.”

and jungwoo _is_ right, cause he definitely deserves the boy that’s brought back that mischievous spark behind his eyes and all the happiness the universe surely has reserved for him, for he is such a nice person; and maybe yukhei never deserved him in the first place, for he is so precious it feels sinful for him to have had him. and jungwoo has made him happy even if what they had wasn’t _love_ , has made him realize so many things that had always been there but he’d been too blind to see, so it makes sense for him to croak out a little broken _anything you want_ as his hand squeezes jungwoo’s, lips pressed together tight to try and hold in his tears. 

the effort is deemed useless, anyways; they start falling the moment jungwoo presses their lips together one last time, a bittersweet goodbye.

yukhei watches the older’s silhouette as he walks away towards the sunset, as if he were to become one with the sun. and yukhei’s heart hasn’t been broken, not really, but it feels like something has been clicked off and his life suddenly seems a little bit darker than it was before; less secure, for he no longer has a warm chest he can lean into when the doubts come round.

he stays on that bench until the sky is dark and moonless, when ten comes to find him and drags him away to his room for cold pizza leftovers from dinner and bland ice cream from the convenience store. how he finds him, yukhei doesn’t know, but he’s grateful for the gesture. 

he guesses there’s always a chance things could go worse, and so he devours three bottles of ice cream and complains about a stomach ache for hours before going to sleep.

silently walking back to his bedroom well past midnight, yukhei thinks, feels too much like he’s done something way worse than let his boyfriend — _ex-_ boyfriend, his mind supplies — break up with him without putting up the least bit of a fight. the knot at the back of his throat, though, serves as a reminder of the ways in which everything could potentially change now that he and jungwoo are no longer together. 

mark and johnny and all his friends are pretty close to jungwoo, and as he walks down the first floor corridor towards his room, yukhei wonders if they’re going to hate him now; if he really managed to fuck up the most precious friendship he’s ever had with those stupid three words he’d told jungwoo, if mark would ever want to look at him in the eye again. 

but when he makes it into the room, mark is laying down on his unmade bed as always, and he lets go of his phone when he sees him and laughs.

“dude, you look like shit,” he grins, sitting up and watching yukhei throw himself facedown on his own bed. “it’ll be fine, man. welcome back to the single life!”

(and mark doesn’t treat him any differently, and they stay friends, and johnny doesn’t beat him up for hurting jungwoo and their friend groups do grow a little distant, if only because they never really managed to be as close as they all would’ve liked anyways, but it’s all okay because mark still offers to go to the library and watch movies together and they still stay up till four in the morning talking about nothing and everything at once.

mark lee is a good friend, yukhei ends up concluding, and he vows to himself to never mess up what they have. 

(some promises are made to be broken, anyways.))

⋇

summer comes around faster than any of them could’ve thought, the inevitable warming up of the sunrays, sweat dampening their clothes even if they don’t do much, and yukhei finds that he’s not ready for it at all. 

when nights staying up until late studying with mark in their room are over, finals done and first year of college finished, yukhei starts to feel something akin to dread clawing at the back of his throat at the thought of leaving seoul for the summer. it’s a weird thing to think, he realises on his way back to the dorm from the corner convenience store, that going back to hong kong does not really feel like returning home at all, and he guesses with a smile that it’s probably a good signal; that he’s managed to built a home not out of a foreign place, but of the people’s he’s met, the friends he’s made, the way in which he’s found a truer version of himself. 

when he gets to their first floor room, their things all packed into boxes they’ll put away until they return for the next year, yukhei throws on mark’s bed the bag of chips he’s bought him, a fond look in his eyes at the way in which his bed, even on their last day in seoul before summer break, is still messy and unmade. 

they’ll share a taxi to the airport tomorrow morning, and they won’t cry upon parting ways because they’ll text every day during summer; and when september comes round again, they’ll share another room, one a little bit bigger than the one they have now, the fifth floor a witness to the second chapter of their very own college adventure, and a friendship that both of them make sure to cherish and protect. and nothing will change when they see each other again, after three months of time zone differences and low quality video calls. 

nothing will change, except for the fact that everything will. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you’ve already read the first chapter of this little journey, hello again!!! and if not, welcome to the spectacle — you’re just in time for things to start getting interesting, and i hope you’ll enjoy what our favorite college boys have to offer <3
> 
> additional warning for this chapter: there’s the briefest mention of blood in the second scene (someone’s nose bleeds a little!!!)

september is still september no matter how far from home yukhei is, but when the time to cross the airport security threshold in hong kong comes round again, there’s no trace of anxious fear crawling up from the pit of his stomach. instead, as he hugs his parents goodbye before beginning his journey back to seoul, the only thing he feels is excitement, bubbling bright and big inside his chest, too big for his ribcage to hold, spilling from the light he knows he must have in his eyes and the too wide smile he just cannot erase from his face.

returning to seoul is the thought that has plagued yukhei’s mind since he landed a foot on hong kong at the start of summer break, when he found himself missing the company of his friends at most times, wishing to be walking down the city streets that had turned to become his home far away from home. 

his parents had listened patiently to his every story about college life and flourishing friendships, a fond look in their eyes, the content feeling of seeing their son so utterly happy warm in their chest, and despite not knowing any of yukhei’s friends apart from the pictures that he’d show them, they’d also grown to appreciate how well they’d taken care of yukhei during his first year abroad. 

yukhei had gushed endlessly about how much he loved ten and sicheng, shared a thousand tales about the fun he got up to with kunhang and dejun, and rejoiced himself in the fact that he’d made the nicest group of friends ever out of the four of them together. and he’d talked about johnny and the other hyungs, too, even if he’d omitted the fact that he and jungwoo had been dating for a good part of the year, but all of those stories and every other he would tell had been eclipsed by the fact that, thankfully to the universe, mark lee was an existing presence in his life. 

because mark lee, yukhei would admit, was the best present seoul had given to him; a reliable friend, one who’d always listen without judging, the person who always managed to make him smile. it was a little bit like a wonder, that they could be so different yet so similar at the same time, same thoughts crossing their minds at certain moments, understandment at first glance. yukhei’s parents knew everything about mark, because, apparently, yukhei was unable to stop talking about him. they’d even seen him through videocall, a handful of the hundreds he and yukhei had been in during the length of summer, time zones a burden but never an impediment. 

it is the excitement that thinking about being reunited with mark and the rest of his friends, yukhei realizes as he sits in his plane seat, that doesn’t allow him to submit to the dread lurking at the back of his mind that knowing things will be inevitably different this year provokes. 

because the end of last year had been far different from what yukhei had imagined, after how events had finally unfolded; a far cry from the ideal, happy ending everyone had been expecting. 

ten and johnny’s breakup had been a harsh blow for everyone, because no matter how good they were with each other, how much they claimed to still be friends, hanging out together would be awkward for a while. the distance between each group of friends, which had already been sadly present, had only deepened, to the point that it was a rare occurence to ever see any of the chinese boys in a room that wasn’t either theirs or ten’s. yukhei’d understood, despite how sad it had made him to realize that nights when a room would be packed with all of them were probably never going to happen again, but he’d still hung with johnny and yuta and the korean hyungs they often brought over because he had jungwoo. and it’d been fine, for a short while, spending his time shifting from one group to the other, until jungwoo had broken up with him and it, suddenly, was not anymore. 

jungwoo, yukhei thinks with a grimace while he waits for his luggage at the collection point in seoul airport, is probably the only reason why returning to the dorms could be seen to be less a happy event than it really is. yukhei misses him sometimes, he will admit, when he’s lonely and partying with his friends back in hong kong seems like the most boring thing compared to anything else he does in seoul, because jungwoo took his mind off things, and they had fun and it was nice for a while. 

but this, yukhei tells himself upon climbing on the backseat of a taxi, is a new beginning. a new opportunity to grow, to meet new people and keep growing as a person and enjoy the company of those he considers to be his best friends. he will have to learn how to let go of the past, undoubtedly, but he’s optimistic.

things will be fine, because he’s finally arriving back to the international housing in the seoul university campus, and nothing’s ever felt more like home as this does; the knowledge that he’s loved and awaited for, new adventures waiting for him in the months to come, happiness and excitement making his stomach flip in anticipation. 

things will be fine, because he’s not alone; feels like he won’t ever be again.

⋇

mark’s and yukhei’s assigned room for the year turns out to be on the fifth floor, in the same hallway as the one ten and sicheng share, johnny and yuta’s on the opposite one. it isn’t all that relevant, for all rooms are exactly the same no matter the floor — except for the little kitchen they now have, a potential hazard for the rest of residents —, but being assigned to the same floor as their older friends sort of feels like a reward, a proof of an achievement none of them are really aware of. 

because mark and yukhei, they’d managed to survive a whole year sharing a room without yukhei going into cardiac arrest over mark’s untidy tendencies and messy habits, and had grown so close it was only natural to apply for a shared room for the following year as well, none of them wishing to change partners after how good of a team they both made. 

when yukhei opens the door to the room, the left side is already looking absolutely trashed, bed covers halfway on the floor, proof of a fact he already knew. mark arrived to the dorm the previous night, time zones and flight companies making it impossible for them to coordinate their arrival to seoul any more than this; a fourteen hour difference, and mark’s personality already engraved into his own side of this new room, fun and messy and so utterly _mark_ that yukhei has to laugh. 

yukhei closes the door behind him as he walks inside, already thinking about knocking on johnny’s door once he leaves his stuff to see if mark’s with him, when the ensuite bathroom door is suddenly being pushed open and ends up crashing harshly against yukhei’s body, his nose taking a strong blow. 

“fuck!” yukhei cries out, bag falling to the ground as his hands move to cover his face, something warm trickling down the back of his left one. _my nose is bleeding_ , he thinks bitterly, tears welling up in his eyes automatically at the pain. 

“what the fuck- shit, dude!” mark lee yells, towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets running from his wet hair down the expanse of his chest, eyes wide open in a panicked expression. “yukhei, fuck, are you okay? i didn’t hear you coming in, fuck, i’m so sorry, are you okay?”

yukhei does not think he is okay, if the way his nose is hurting right now is anything to go by, but mark’s panicked voice and the way this is his welcome to the dorms after three long months have him covering his eyes with the palms of his hands before bursting out laughing, the sound pained but genuine. 

some things never change, and mark lee never learned how to open a door without making it bang against the wall. the irony of this being their first physical interaction after summer break is enough for him to momentarily forget about the red dripping from his nostrils, giving mark a grin despite his face muscles aching as he does. 

“you’re so fucking lucky i love you,” yukhei chuckles, and he gives mark a long hug before reaching for toilet paper to stop the blood flow because the boy really looks like he needs it. “fuck, i don’t think it’s broken, but it hurts a lot.”

“dude,” mark laughs, sounding a little bit hysterical, against yukhei’s shoulder before patting his chest harshly so he’ll let him go, “i really didn’t hear you coming, you didn’t make any noise.”

it’s a valid excuse, and yukhei just rolls his eyes as he presses a handful of tissue to his nose, head tilted back so as to cut the hemorrhage. 

“promise to keep the room tidy for a week and i won’t hate you,” he chuckles out, leaning towards the mirror to examine his nose — there’s a small cut right on the bridge, and it might bruise a little, but he’ll be fine.

“duh,” mark huffs from the other side of the room, where he’s getting dressed, “as if you ever could.”

they both laugh, and the truth remains clear in the open, plain and simple.

mark and yukhei are forever, and not even a broken nose could ever change that.

⋇

as yukhei lays down on sicheng’s bed with the older while ten hangs his clothes on the closet, it dawns on him that his second year of college is probably johnny and the other hyungs’ last one. the question rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, brain to mouth filter often nonexistent, and he feels guilty because johnny is probably the last person ten wants to talk about. 

but ten’s grip on the jackets he’s hanging doesn’t falter, opposite to how sicheng tenses up slightly next to yukhei on the mattress, instantly forcing himself to relax.

“oh, yeah,” ten says nonchalantly, eyes scanning his clothes again before he adjusts his glasses to look over at yukhei. “i asked johnny what he’s thinking of doing after graduation. he said they all will probs do a postgrad in here so, i don’t think they’ll be too sad that they’re finally getting their degrees.”

“you talked to johnny?” yukhei’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline.

“they’re not leaving, then?” sicheng asks at the same time, trying so hard to seem uninterested that he ends up sounding desperate to know. 

yukhei frowns, because although he’s known since the start that there’s something going on between yuta and sicheng — he’s not an idiot, they’d never looked each other in the eye when hanging out together wasn’t as outrageous a suggestion as it is now —, sicheng’s never told him a word about it and so yukhei has never asked. he’s always figured that the older really doesn’t want to talk about it, because they were surely good friends, and if he had wanted— well. if he’d wanted to explain, yukhei would’ve listened, because that’s what he does best. it’s not like he's really shared his sentimental problems with sicheng, either, he’ll admit, but he’s still sicheng’s friend. 

his rapidly speeding train of thought is cut when ten simply rolls his eyes, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he sits down on his bed and gives them both a pointed look. 

“ _yes_ , i talked to johnny, yukhei. we’re friends, and adults, and honestly i think he’s as over me as i’m over him,” he starts, and yukhei swears he can feel sicheng bracing himself for the answer ten must have reserved for him, “and _no_ , sicheng, baby, they are not gonna be leaving after this year, so maybe it’s finally time to learn how to be in the same room as yuta, hm?” 

ten’s voice is sickly sweet, but sicheng is frozen next to yukhei, and yukhei wants to ask _why_. and he’s going to ask, his tongue forming the syllables already, when his phone beeps loudly as startles the three of them. 

“dejun and kunhang said if it’s okay to come?” yukhei says, face lit with the purplish hue from his phone screen. “they said they’ll bring wine… and that they made a new friend they wanna introduce?” 

“a new friend?” sicheng sits up eagerly, previous uneasiness discarded, hands ready to clap in excitement. after a whole year, yukhei still finds cute how happy sicheng always is about meeting potential friends. 

ten doesn’t seem to register the last part of the message, for his lights up instantly at the mention of drinking with everyone. 

“wine! of course, tell them they’re more than welcome. my sweet boys, i’ve missed them.”

kunhang and dejun do not have a kitchen in their room despite being second year students.

the thing is, there is _actually_ a kitchen built into the dorm they share, just like it is in every bedroom on the upper floors, but theirs is deactivated because none of their parents trust their sons to be able to cook ramen without setting fire to the entire building. kunhang is grateful that his parents are concerned about public safety and wellbeing like that, but dejun laments profusely the fact that they’re gonna have to eat at the dorm communal dining room all year again — he’s honestly a little bit tired of the menu repeating itself every week. 

yukhei’s known the both of them for long enough to know that their tragic tale is nothing out of the usual, so utterly them that it’s almost endearing. 

(he knows sicheng shares his point of view, for he gives them a fond roll of his eyes and offers them the bag of snacks he’d been munching out of.) 

on the other side of the room, perched on the mattress beside ten, yangyang laughs loudly as he listens to the story for what is probably the second time that day, and ten is instantly in love with the way he teases them both as if they’d been friends forever instead of for a total of twenty minutes.

kunhang abducted yangyang from the dining room queue at lunchtime and brought him to his and dejun’s table, both of them in need of a new friend now that mark and yukhei have abandoned them for shitty college-student-cooked meals. yangyang comes from germany, but his mandarin is impeccable and he laughs easily, which fulfills every requisite a friend of theirs should have. 

yukhei likes the kid, because he’s fast and witty in a way that reminds him slightly of ten. the older must feel the same way, for he claims to adopt yangyang right in that exact moment, and the youngest in the room is delighted to become part of their clearly crazy friend group. 

from then on, hanging out together becomes a normal occurrence, with qian i-shared-a-class-with-ten-once kun joining them every so often that they become a little family, sort of, with playful fights and internal jokes that make yukhei remember why he’s so happy to be in seoul in the first place. 

he still spends a lot of time between the library and the dorms and everything else they decide to do with mark lee, who doesn’t stray away from yukhei at all despite ending up each in one of the two groups that resulted from their friends not hanging together anymore. mark’s with johnny, yuta, taeyong and his other friends as much as yukhei is with ten and the rest, and it’s all fine because they still feel whole and have each other, things never awkward between them if only because there was never a big fight that caused the division to happen.

when they go out at night and coincidentally end up in the same place, mark and yukhei pull their groups to the same part of the club and there’s no bad vibes between them — more distance, yes, but ten still smiles and whistles when mark leaves with yet another girl, and johnny still hugs sicheng and yukhei has enough fun to pretend not to notice it when jungwoo disappears with doyoung way too early into the night.

⋇

eventually, yukhei becomes so entangled in spending his time between classes and his friends and mark that he almost forgets that he still kind of misses kim jungwoo.

he tells mark about it one night while they share a pretty cheap, huge pizza in a hole-in-the-wall place a few blocks away from campus, his too long legs entangled uncomfortably with mark’s under a rather unstable table. 

“i think i miss jungwoo,” yukhei states, because he needs to get the thought out of his head to see if it sounds as stupid as he thinks it does. it doesn’t.

“dude,” mark chuckles around a mouthful of pizza, swallowing as he shakes his head, “i’m gonna be honest with you, okay? i don’t think you really miss jungwoo. it’s something more like… missing being with someone, you know what i mean?”

yukhei does not, but he shrugs and plucks a piece of pepperoni away from a slice, observing it for a moment before putting it into his mouth.

“yukhei,” mark nudges at his calf with his foot, and yukhei feels something close to embarrassment as he looks over at him. he’s never been good at sharing this kind of stuff with mark, best friends or not. “man, i know it’s hard. he was your first boyfriend, so i guess that’s something big but, you know you’re gonna be better off without him in the long run.”

“i guess,” yukhei sighs, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth for a moment before shoving half a pizza slice down his throat. “like, you’re right, i don’t wanna like, be with him again or anything, but i still miss him. i hope it’ll pass soon.”

mark chuckles, shakes his head and orders them both another round of beers. 

“it will, man. i’ve got your back, yeah?”

he does. yukhei grins around his food, and kicks mark’s shin playfully just because he can.

(and yukhei does miss jungwoo, because he brought a little bit of certainty to his life when everything was changing and that was the best thing he could’ve hoped for, but but his friends take his mind off his misery and he doesn’t have much time to think about it before he’s being dragged somewhere; the chinese restaurant sicheng takes them to becoming a second home for his friend group, and mark’s increasing interest in late night adventures exploring new places in seoul making him realize he doesn’t need to date anyone to feel secure in his own skin.)

⋇

mark lee burns his toast in the morning for six days in a row when not even a week of class has gone by. the fire alarm goes off every time, because burnt bread produces an awful lot of smoke, and everyone’s starting to become so done with being woken up by the ringing noise that johnny takes matters into his own hands and takes their toaster away from them. 

“it’s for the best, trust me,” he explains to a miserable mark and a very sleepy yukhei who’s not yet had time for his morning coffee. “you know that yuta loves you a whole lot and all, but he’s ready to punch you in the face if you wake us up with that fucking alarm one more time. honestly, the whole floor is, probably.”

and that’s how mark and yukhei end up having breakfast in the communal dining room every day, because a morning is not a morning for mark if there’s no toast and yukhei doesn’t have the heart to tell him no when he begs to eat downstairs. the coffee was always good enough, and he’s allowed to change the type of cereal he eats every other day, so overall it’s not that bad. 

“dude, do you think they’ll make pancakes if i ask them to? like, on sundays or something,” mark asks around a mouthful of toast, eyes shiny with excitement, because for as much a heavy sleeper as he is, mark’s always chirpy in the morning. 

yukhei’s own eyes are half closed because it’s too damn early and his coffee is too hot to drink yet. 

“i thought we were here for the toast,” he shrugs, head resting on his hand as he twirls the liquid in his cup.

“well, yeah but, it’d be nice. i’d be down to eat pancakes on a sunday.”

“excuse me, do you mind if i sit here?”

yukhei’s eyes shoot open at the sudden question coming from behind him, and he jumps a little in his chair as he turns to look up at the voice who asked. it’s a boy, chinese too, and he smiles kindly at him and nods his head. mark’s already agreeing excitedly. 

“sure! what’s your name?” mark asks, and at least he’s swallowed his food before speaking this time.

“huang renjun,” the newcomer says softly, placing his tray on the table before sitting down next to yukhei. “are you first years, too?”

they are not, both of them explain after introducing themselves, but yukhei’s always been one for meeting new people and this guy seems really nice. renjun turns out to be yangyang’s roommate, and they end up talking too much and are almost late to their class. 

as yukhei rushes to bring the empty trays back to where they belong, mark asks renjun if he wants to hang out with them at night, maybe, but renjun politely declines. 

“i already made plans with my friends from the other dorm,” he says apologetically, scratching the back of his neck shyly, “but hey, you two can come along with me if you want! we’re all new this year, so i’m sure it’d be fun to have some hyungs join us.”

they don’t have any better plans, and so mark and yukhei agree before running towards the elevator, arriving on time to their first period class an almost impossible mission now. 

(renjun’s friends are all first year students, but mark and yukhei have so much fun with them that hanging out together almost becomes a routine. it’s a nice change, to go from being babied by all their older friends to _be_ the older friends, and yukhei often returns home with his cheeks hurting from laughing too much, a smile permanently embedded on mark’s face as they make their way up to their room. 

“dude, donghyuck is fucking _crazy_ ,” mark comments with a laugh as they walk together one day. “they’re all so much fun, i can’t believe. this is like, i didn’t know i was missing something like this from my life, but i totally was.”

yukhei agrees, because the implications that lay underneath are clear, and it is an undeniable truth.

he and mark, they needed a group of friends that they could share, something theirs and not stained with a drama often foreign; and these kids, they make hanging with them feel like home, too, and that’s something yukhei cherishes.

“man, you’re so fucking right,” yukhei giggles, sighing as he stretches his arms above his head, back sore from hunching around the others. “jeno and jaemin are in our faculty, too. that’s nice, we can like, eat with them now and stuff.” _because we no longer eat with jungwoo_ , he doesn’t say. 

and making friends like that feels similar to getting a family of their own, sort of; because they don’t stop hanging out with ten and johnny or with each other alone, but this is something they share and it feels special in a kind of way that’s hard to explain — and so they don’t and simply enjoy it, because beautiful things tend to become fragile and this is something they don’t want to break.)

⋇

there’s a small club a fifteen-minute walk away from campus, where college students living in the dorms, koreans and foreigners alike, tend to go at night. it’s there that yukhei and all his friends used to go when they first met, a big group and too much fun to be had; it’s there that yukhei’s and mark’s groups meet now, because not hanging out together anymore doesn’t mean they don’t still like to have fun at the same place; it’s there that mark and yukhei take their new friends, donghyuck’s dance moves stealing everyone’s breath away and jaemin’s hands wandering dangerously close to jeno.

it’s there that it happens for the first time. 

the lights are always dim inside the club, bar full of people trying to get another drink, and yukhei’s drunk — for how tall he is, alcohol hits him fast, and three drinks is enough to have him narrowing his eyes into slits as he tries to locate any of his friends. ten is nowhere to be seen, the usual now that everyone’s become familiar with him being single again, and he should be able to spot sicheng because he always likes to stay on the same side of the club, but he can’t and it makes him frown. 

yukhei’s about to pull out his phone and see if he’s got any texts from his friends, maybe telling him where they’ve moved or if they’ve gone home already, when there are hands gently pulling on his shoulder from behind. his first instinct is to tense up, because he’s not really looking for a one night stand tonight — hasn’t been, really, ever since he broke up with jungwoo, because kissing random people had somehow lost its appeal after getting a taste of the trust emanated from a relationship —, and he’s ready to politely decline whoever’s trying to approach him when he turns around to spot mark lee, hair perfectly in place for once, black shirt fitting perfectly around his slim frame, eyes hazy from drinking a bit too much, probably.

“dude,” yukhei laughs, playfully hitting mark’s arm, relief washing over him, “fucking finally, i’ve been lost for a while now and-“

but mark doesn’t let him finish, hand gaining ahold of yukhei’s sleeve and pulling him away from the mass of bodies towards a quieter part of the club, and yukhei’s eyebrows are drawn together in confusion. he wonders if something’s happened to mark — if there’s an ex-girlfriend around he doesn’t want to see, or if there was a fight between his friends or something, but when they’re finally in a dark corner and yukhei’s about to ask, the impossible happens.

mark stands right in front of him, crowding his space, hands gripping the front of yukhei’s shirt, and then he’s pulling him down to crash their lips together in a kiss. 

and yukhei — yukhei’s starstruck, his intoxicated brain taking a moment to register what’s going on, because even if he’d been sober it would’ve still sounded surreal, but when mark’s thin lips move against his own it’s only a reflex to kiss him back; slow, his own bigger hands gaining support when they rest on the small of mark’s back, the sweet taste of mark’s tongue — orange and vodka and something _his_ — clouding his already hazy mind. 

it feels so much like a fever dream that yukhei can’t even be surprised when it ends abruptly, mark pulling away from him as if he were scalding fire, eyes wild as he looks at yukhei and then around them.

“mark,” yukhei’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth, the phantom touch of mark’s lips against his own still making him dizzy.

but mark is already sprinting away from him, and although yukhei extends his arm and tries to catch him, he remains untouchable.

“mark’s gone home, i think,” jaehyun tells yukhei with a side smile when he asks, trying not to sound too frantic. 

“he was really drunk,” yukhei pushes, because it’s the truth he’d seen in his eyes, and yet he needs an excuse; a cover for something nobody but him knows happened, because reality looks too close to a dream right now — he’s not sure of what kind.

“don’t worry about him, yukhei. he wasn’t alone,” taeil adds, and the words sink in yukhei’s stomach like a heavy rock, and suddenly he’s not drunk anymore.

asking more, yukhei realises, is not gonna serve him any good, and so he thanks them and leaves without saying goodbye to anyone.

the walk back home feels too much like penitence, and yukhei’s stomach is churning with the anxiety of not knowing what awaits for him in the room. he wonders if mark’s brought someone home, if he’s maybe going to have to ask sicheng to crash in his bed yet again, if the touch of mark’s lips against his own had really been a fantasy induced by his stupidly drunk brain. 

but the wind is blowing cold against yukhei’s face as he walks, and in the dark of the night, with only the dim light from the streetlamps casting shadows as he passes by, clarity comes to him like a train and he’s finally able to process what happened not even an hour before. 

and really, yukhei could stop to ponder about the reasons — about why mark’d grabbed him like that and pressed their lips together, why he’d kissed yukhei out of everyone else, why he’d run away —, but there is a bigger question burning on his mind and he decides it could do no harm to acknowledge it, if only to distract himself from the imminent awkwardness that surely awaits for him at home.

because mark had kissed him, yeah, but yukhei had kissed him back, and as drunk as he’d been, he remembers the way his hands had laid upon mark’s back, how he’d pressed him close, how he’d just accepted it and relished into his touch. there had been no hesitation from his part, no panic — just slight surprise, and he’d taken mark in like he would’ve an oasis lost out in the dry desert; needy, grateful, passionate.

the implications are too big for yukhei’s tired brain to process, and as he takes the elevator to the fifth floor alone, he makes a promise to sort out his thoughts before confronting mark about it. 

he really hopes that mark’s getting laid in their room right now, or at a random girl’s dorm, honestly, if only for the sake of not having to face him now. 

(but when yukhei pushes the door open, careful, alert, there’s nobody inside; and as much as he calls out for mark, tries to catch the unmistakable sound of his voice through the walls, he’s nowhere to be found, and so he gets into bed and sleeps and hopes for the new morning to wash away all this mess.)

⋇

mark is sitting on his bed when yukhei wakes up, sweat making his black hair stick to his forehead, a sour taste at the back of his mouth making him grimace.

“morning dude,” mark smiles at him, waving his hand a little.

yukhei groans in lieu of a response, burying his face into his pillow to try and block out the too bright sun rays filtering through the blinds, and mark giggles. in his hungover state, yukhei takes a long while to recap the events from the previous night, but when he does everything comes back to him barreling, the torrent of information so strong his head _throbs_ as memories flood in.

mark lee’s hands tugging on his shirt, mark lee’s lips against his own, mark lee slipping away from his hands — the mere thought is overwhelming enough for yukhei to feel short of breath.

“where’d you go last night?” yukhei brings himself to ask — an innocent enough question, given everything that’d happened. “i was worried,” he adds, because well. he was.

“oh,” mark chuckles, rolling back his shoulders. one of them cracks with a noisy _pop_ , sore, “i crashed with taeyong hyung last night,” he ends up saying, simply, like there’s nothing more to it.

“ah,” yukhei nods, getting out of bed so he can grab a painkiller. he supposes he should push it a little more, but talking is a little bit of a torture right now. there will be time.

“dude, do you wanna like, eat out or something? i don’t feel like cooking shit,” mark chirps, then, and yukhei nods.

“just let me shower first,” he mumbles, already dragging his feet into the ensuite and closing the door behind himself

yukhei tries to clear his thoughts under the warmth of the shower spray, washing away the previous night’s sweat and grime from his skin and watching the water swirl down the drain. 

mark had kissed him and then he’d run away, and yukhei hadn’t pushed him away but kissed him back instead. he doesn’t like mark, that he knows, at least not in a way that goes further than _the closest friend i’ve ever had_ , but the boy is crazy handsome and yukhei is a little touch deprived and definitely not dumb. 

it’s not wrong for him to have liked it, yukhei decides in the end, because kissing is nice and it doesn’t have to mean anything. mark is straight, and yukhei doesn’t like him, and it could’ve been part of a bet or a drunken spark of the moment or literally anything else, but it’s all fine because he is yukhei and mark will always be mark — fun, a little bit restless, always unpredictable.

it’s better not to overthink it, yukhei tells himself as he looks in the mirror, fingers pushing back his wet hair, because that will only lead to misunderstandings and he does not want to fall out with mark. they’re going out together in a moment, anyways, so he guesses they’ll talk about it and laugh it off and that will be it.

yeah, that will be it.

(they don’t talk about it — 

mark doesn’t say a word about last night except that he’d seen donghyuck and renjun kissing and then had talked to taeyong for hours, and their hangover is so strong that they have to take another painkiller after eating in fear of their heads bursting right in the middle of the burger place.

“i’m never drinking again, i don’t even remember half the shit that went on last night,” mark complains, and yukhei laughs around his glass of water and nods because, well. he does remember, but drinking again sounds too much like death right now.

they don’t mention the party again, and so yukhei guesses, when mark goes to order them the biggest cup of ice cream the site has to offer, that mark probably does not remember kissing him; and if he doesn’t remember, yukhei won’t tell anyone about it, so he can try and forget how soft his lips had felt between his own, how well his hands had fit on the other’s back, how his chest hadn’t felt tight with anguish when they’d kissed.

it’s probably for the best.)

⋇

three weeks after the most confusing moment of yukhei’s life, he can confidently say that nothing’s changed between him and mark lee. 

they still spend long hours together in the library, essay writing the thing they despise the most about the public affairs faculty, and then they hang out with jaemin and jeno and donghyuck and renjun and laugh their asses off and days pass by in a frenzy like that — having fun, and learning, always learning, one way or another. 

at night, if they’re too tired for anything else, if none of their friend groups offer better plans, they set yukhei’s laptop on a chair between their beds and watch movies until they end up falling asleep, or talk and talk and talk until their phone screens remind them that they don’t have much time left for sleep before class now. and it’s all good, because like this yukhei doesn’t have to wonder why mark kissed him that night, doesn’t have to worry that it will change anything, because they’re still them and it’s all fine. 

and when they go out, with friends in common or in separate groups, they dance with each other as always and mark still kisses girls and goes back home with them, which is routine yukhei knows and learns to cherish because it’s for the best.

because mark lee is straight, and it’s a truth everyone knows, as real as the fact that the sky is blue and the sun burns bright. they all take it as a given and don’t question it, which is why yukhei finds he doesn’t know how he’s ended up like this again — with his back pressed against a wall in a far corner of the club, where dim lights cannot reach, the shadow the only witness to the way mark’s tongue swipes wetly over his bottom lip when he asks for entrance, to the way yukhei’s hands bring him closer by the waist, to how he doesn’t dare to pull away in fear of mark vanishing from his hold like last time.

“yukhei,” mark breathes against his lips, foreheads pressed together, and yukhei feels dizzy although he hasn’t had a sip of a drink today.

“mark,” he says back, and he can’t help but chuckle softly, because it’s all a little bit surreal but at least they’re acknowledging each other this time. “you good?”

“yeah,” mark grins, closing his eyes for a moment. his eyelashes fan against yukhei’s cheek, and it makes him shiver. “feels a little crazy, but it’s good.”

“why’re you kissing me?” yukhei asks, then, smile on his lips because he feels like he’s got nothing to lose when mark’s arms are looped around his neck, playing with the hair at his nape. 

“cause you’re cool,” mark says, as if that’s enough of an answer. he’s not drunk today, either, and for that yukhei is grateful despite how much more confusing it makes everything, “and i wanted to see if it was as nice as i remembered, you know.”

“you remember?” it comes as a surprise to yukhei because, well. he really thought mark didn’t. “you didn’t say anything.”

“i didn’t think it was appropriate,” mark sounds sheepish now, and yukhei frowns because it doesn’t suit him. his hands rub over mark’s sides, comforting, and the smaller boy smiles against his jaw, “we’re friends, right? this doesn’t change anything.”

yukhei would say that it _does_ change some things, but he guesses mark is probably right — it’s not like they like each other or anything; it’s just kissing, nice and fun.

“course,” yukhei concedes, pulling back for a second so he can really watch mark’s face. his lips look a little bit swollen, and he wants nothing but to have them back between his own right now. “always friends, markie. forever.”

“forever,” mark smiles, hand gently caressing yukhei’s jaw. “we can keep kissing, then, yeah? nothing serious, it’s just nice. you’re a good kisser.”

yukhei flushes red. he’s thankful for the lack of light, the privacy that the hidden corner grants them in a place full of people they know, hiding away the way he blushes with intent.

“thanks,” he chokes out, squirming slightly, “you are, too.” as an afterthought, he adds, “why me, though? and not one from your endless list of girls?”

he can’t see well, but yukhei knows the exact way in which mark lee is rolling his eyes. 

“things aren’t going too well with girls lately,” he says simply, and then he’s pressing himself even closer to yukhei, small smirk on his lips. “plus, i really wanted to see what all the fuss about kissing boys was about.”

yukhei feels a little delirious, and so he just presses his lips to mark’s again, a bit harsher, a bit needier. 

“hey,” mark interrupts, index finger pressed to yukhei’s lips, and he swears he could burst into flames right now, “we’re still friends, no matter what,” he says, serious, and yukhei nods because _of course they are_. he’d already made it clear — _no homo_ , he thinks to himself, and chuckles internally. “please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“huh,” yukhei stares back at him, engines whirring inside his cotton-like mind. “oh, yeah. of course, don’t worry about it,” he goes to kiss him again, but mark stops him.

“promise me.”

he’s so cute. yukhei laughs gently, holds mark’s face in one of his hands — they’re big enough, and the realisation is overwhelming. 

“i promise you, mark lee,” yukhei says gently, because he feels the way mark tenses up under his hold, “you’re my best friend. you don’t have to worry about anything, i won’t tell.”

mark smiles at him, warm and private, and then leans forward and kisses the breath away from yukhei’s lips. it’s incredibly nice, yukhei finds, to hold him close and learn the inside of his mouth with his tongue, getting to kiss the moles on mark’s neck feeling too much like being allowed to hold the stars in seoul’s sky, and yukhei finds himself wanting more and more and not knowing how to stop wanting.

they go back with everyone else after a while, and nobody suspects anything because they say nothing; and when they return together to the dorms, yukhei presses mark against the wall the second the door to their room is closed and jerks him off until he’s panting against his mouth.

mark laughs as he comes down from his high, and yukhei does too, because it all feels too crazy to be real.

“bro,” mark grins, shaking his head, “we gotta do this more often, honestly. you’re so fucking good with your hands.”

yukhei takes the compliment and pulls away to wash his hands, and when mark finally falls asleep in his own bed, he bites down on his fist as he brings himself to completion alone.

⋇

yukhei isn’t really sure about how it happens, but making out becomes almost a routine for them and he can’t really complain about it. 

at first, they’d only do it at parties, if mark didn’t find someone he could spend the night with, and yukhei would only shrug and down some shots with dejun so he wouldn’t have to think too much about it; but eventually, yukhei started to find himself with mark’s lips pressed to his neck while they watched a movie together in their room, his hands down his pants when one of them said they were going to shower, and it was more fun than confusing, so he hadn’t really questioned it. 

they’re still friends, as both of them had promised to be since the very first moment of this whole ordeal, and so everything stays the same except for the fact that now, when they come back from the library feeling stress roll down their bodies in waves, yukhei finds his hand around mark’s dick and the other’s against his own as they unwind. it’s a degree of trust yukhei’d never thought to achieve with someone who wasn’t his romantic partner, but hey, mark lee turns out to have a mean twist of his wrist that’s t never failed to make him squirm, so he’s not too gutted about it.

the only thing yukhei worries about is mark lee’s bed, because he’s never been a fan of the way the canadian doesn’t understand the basics of bedding or feet-free zones, but that’s also fine because they never sleep together, anyways; yukhei taking two steps to the left so he can get into his own bed, where he can still stay awake until late talking about life and friends and laugh at everything with mark.

they never talk about it, though, but yukhei does not think there’s a need to do so; things are pretty clear, he figures, because mark lee is mark lee and he is still wong yukhei, so there’s no place for doubt —

because mark likes girls, still goes home with them sometimes, and yukhei doesn’t feel bad about it because the reason why he hooks up with mark — aside from the fact that he’s, objectively, of course, the handsomest boy in the dorms, and also his best friend who seems to love this whole friends-with-benefits ordeal — is that he missed jungwoo and kissing someone who isn’t mark sounds too much of an effort for him to make.

but it’s all fine, really. they don’t say each other’s names when they cum, yukhei knows what goes on in mark’s mind, mark knows what goes on in yukhei’s, and yukhei knows mark knows, so there’s nothing to worry about and no confusion to be had.

(because mark had asked why he hadn’t been trying to kiss anyone lately, on a rare free afternoon, autumn rain pouring against their window.

“i just wasn’t feeling it, you know?” yukhei tells mark, laying splayed on his own bed, “nobody’s interesting, nowadays.” 

mark just nods his head abstimedly, sucks on the remnants of his iced americano before throwing the empty plastic cup to the end of his bed. yukhei grimaces.

“hey, wanna let me try to suck your dick?” mark asks, then, and well. 

sure, why not.)

there’s no confusion to be had, and yet, when mark’s finally snoring into the dark of the room, tucked away in the messy bed he’d crawled into after yukhei’d made him come against his thigh, yukhei wonders why it feels so comfortable for both of them to be like this, if they don’t like each other, if mark lee doesn’t like men. 

his chest feels heavy when he thinks, and so he just closes his eyes and counts sheep until the rhythmic breathing coming out of mark’s mouth lures him to sleep.

(and if he dreams of holding mark lee’s hand when they walk around their faculty, it really is nobody else’s business but his.) 

⋇

yukhei had promised mark he wouldn’t tell anyone about their secret little adventures, and for a long while he doesn’t. he stays quiet and lets himself get lost in mark’s lips and mark’s hands until things start to get messy inside his head and swallowing it all down starts becoming a threat for his mental health, and as he gets ready to speak, he tells himself that ten is not just anyone. 

he’s ten, and yukhei trusts him with his life — he’s not going to tell anyone else, and yukhei fears he’ll end up going crazy if he doesn’t share it with someone, because his thoughts have been going a little wild lately and he’s not sure of anything these days.

not that doing it is easy, but he tries. 

“hey, hyung,” yukhei calls out where he’s sitting on ten’s desk chair, the older laying facedown on the bed as he taps away on his phone. ten merely hums in reply, not lifting his eyes from the screen, and yukhei supposes it’s best to just drop the question and think about the consequences later. “do you think mark could maybe, be into boys?”

ten drops his phone onto his chest at that, letting out a loud snort before sitting up on the bed so he can face yukhei, eyes incredulous.

“what? you’re delusional if you really think he could, yukhei,” ten laughs, shaking his head. “that kid… don’t get me wrong, i love him a lot, we used to be real close at one point when i was with johnny and he was still in canada, but babe. there’s no way in hell mark lee’s ever been close to a dick that wasn’t his own.”

yukhei thinks of the way mark’s lips had stretched around his dick, how good his mouth had felt, and finds himself blushing and saying nothing. ten’s eyes fly wide open, then, because he’s too observant for his own good, and yukhei guesses it’s time for him to come clean. 

“oh my god,” ten gasps, crawling closer to where yukhei is sitting. he feels too much like a prey waiting to be caught, “yukhei, did you see something? did he like, bring anyone to the dorm or something? who was it?”

yukhei frowns and stares pointedly at ten, then, sighing softly and rubbing at his face. 

“i didn’t see him with anyone,” he groans, because well, it’s technically true. he’s not sure he’d be able to watch himself fool around with mark without bursting into flames. “and if i had, i wouldn’t tell you, you know? it’s not my business to out anyone, especially if they haven’t done it themselves first! i would never do that, hyung. i was just… asking for your opinion. i have nothing to do with it, just. asking.”

but ten. ten’s always known how to read yukhei, left to right, head to toe, and he’s never really been a good liar in the first place; so the older stays quiet for a second, tries to catch yukhei’s eyes with his own, and when he fails, he just pushes his own hair back in disbelief and says,

“so, you’re banging mark lee,” like he doesn’t need yukhei’s confirmation to know it’s true. “great. you might as well be crazy, yukhei, holy shit. this is not gonna end well and you know that.”

yukhei guesses he does, so what’s left there for him to do except shrug and accept his fate. 

because mark lee is mark lee, and he’s still straight even if he grinds those little hips of his down against yukhei’s under the covers when nobody sees, because they’re friends, with benefits but still _friends_ , and yukhei knows the only way to make it out alive of this endeavour is to never forget it.

he thinks he’s already failing, really, with how delirious it makes him to see mark blush whenever he compliments his outfit before undressing him the second they’re alone in the room, but he sends ten a reassuring smile anyways and says,

“don’t worry, hyung. it’ll be fine, nothing’s really changed between us.”

ten just sighs and shakes his head, gets off from his bed and walks over to the mini fridge in the kitchen and bends down to retrieve a bottle of wine.

“i need a drink to assimilate this mess, fuck,” he says dramatically, and yukhei can only laugh and text the rest of their friends to come around, because being alone with ten and his feelings out in the open feels too overwhelming right now and he needs to think before having this conversation properly.

(“please don’t tell anyone,” he tells ten before kunhang pushes the door open, and ten just smiles at him and places a comforting hand on his thigh.

“i wouldn’t, babe,” ten says, sweet. “let’s just hope you two know how to keep it down, hm? don’t fall in love with him or anything like that, because then, well. i don’t know what’d happen, then.”

falling in love is a concept so foreign to yukhei that he can only smile, lips tight and no teeth, his head a little bit dizzy when everyone else starts pouring into the room and he can finally tune it all out.)

⋇

yukhei’s never been in love before. it’s a knowledge that he’s always had inside him, the constant nagging inside his chest that told him he was a liar the whole time he tried to be with someone else, but when jungwoo had finally pointed it out, kind but unforgivingly true, yukhei’d known that he wasn’t able to fool anyone. 

love is a difficult feeling, he’d learnt, and it took way more than a beautiful face and kind words and tender touches. it ran deep, that he knew, and for a long while after jungwoo broke things off with him he’d wondered if he’d ever be able to feel something so intense, so engaging, so healing yet nocive.

he’d wondered and wondered, and then mark lee had pressed their lips together and suddenly there was nobody else in the world but them, and yukhei doesn’t think about the implications that has because they’re friends and friends don’t consider if they’re in love with each other when they go to sleep.

(but every time yukhei closes his eyes, he pictures himself holding mark’s hand and kissing him stupid in the middle of campus and growing old with him in a big ass suburban house, and he wakes up with his heartbeat hammering at his lungs and the sourest taste at the back of his tongue.)

months keep passing by and things with mark don’t become messed up because they never talk about it, and so there’s never a chance for yukhei to voice out the thoughts that start to become more and more present in his mind as days go by and he finds himself learning the knobs of mark’s spine by heart.

for a while, yukhei wonders if he should try to look for a distraction away from his friends and mark, if he should, maybe, start picking up random people whenever they go out at night so he can try to forget the way mark’s hands feel like they belong on his skin and nowhere else, so he can try and stop feeling so utterly gone for the boy who still sleeps on the bed next to his own every night. 

yukhei wonders, tries to imagine himself in bed with someone who isn’t mark, and fails. the comfort of routine is probably eating away his last functioning braincells, because he can’t possibly be falling for mark lee, and so yukhei stops wondering and lets himself get lost in mark’s voice and mark’s laugh and mark’s touch.

(and when the lights are turned off and mark’s snores fill the small room yet once again, yukhei finds himself thinking he’s really gonna miss mark — he’s gonna miss what they have, when it’s done.)

the first night they sleep together, yukhei is so overwhelmed by the feeling of mark’s even breathing against his collarbones that he can’t be bothered to think about the fact that his head is laying on the same pillow mark’s feet were resting on a mere hour ago.

it’s not like they’d ever mentioned it, but sleeping separately, each in his own bed, was a silent agreement that they’d reached ever since the very start, and yukhei hadn’t really been planning on breaching it, really. nothing personal, he just really appreciated the cleaningness of his own covers he changed every week — he couldn’t say the same about mark’s.

but mark lee — mark lee drove yukhei up the wall, with his starry eyes and messy hair and silly laugh, and when he’d collapsed against his chest after yukhei’d fingered him for the first time in his life, too fucked out to even think about moving, yukhei hadn’t had it in him to push him away from his chest to go back to his bed. and so mark had fallen asleep in his arms, red bitten, swollen lips parted as he snored quietly against the conjunction of yukhei’s neck and shoulder, and yukhei. yukhei felt his heart fucking _flip_ inside his ribcage, suddenly short of breath, and he’d just stared at him until sleep had knocked him out, too, come drying on his stomach and a feeling he wasn’t quite able to grasp blending with the blood in his veins and flooding his body with the most comfortable kind of warmth.

in the morning, mark groans against yukhei’s arm and wakes goosebumps all over his skin; and when his eyes open, he looks so dazed and soft that yukhei has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip tight to avoid kissing him awake, to stop himself from saying three words that he’s never thought of saying ever before, laughing instead before rolling out from under the covers to wash his teeth.

it becomes a routine, too, to fall asleep in each other’s arms, and yukhei reckons he could get used to it — yukhei is greedy, so he doesn’t complain and lets himself grow used to the shape mark’s body engraves in his arms, warm and solid and the only person yukhei wants to sleep with for the rest of his life.

they don’t talk about it, and ten looks over at him sadly whenever yukhei mentions that he and mark went out for dinner at a new place, because they’re still best friends despite the way yukhei’s traitorous mind would like them to be something more, and yukhei just rolls his eyes and says it’s all fine because nothing’s changed and mark still trusts him and there’s nothing he treasures more in the whole entire world. 

and they still tell each other everything, because that’s what best friends do — everything except the way yukhei aches to call him something more, the way he wishes he could hear mark say his name when he’s under him like he truly wants him and is not just pretending to have a good time.

the thing is, yukhei was never really good with words when it comes to describing what he feels; not that he needs them with mark, anyways. he understands him, or at least he makes it feel like he does. yukhei could be thinking, damn, i had a rough day, and mark will offer a beer and a movie and easy laughs. he could think, damn, i really like being with you, you make it feel like home in a way nobody’s ever done, and he’d just press their lips together and push a hand under his shirt. 

they get each other, yukhei guesses. that’s all there is about it, that’s all there _can_ be about it, because the distance between them is insurmountable.

because canada and hong kong are thousand of miles apart, almost as far as mark’s heart is from yukhei’s, but seoul. seoul is middle ground, where they can play pretend and have fun and where their differences don’t mean anything. shouldn’t mean anything. they’re not in love; mark is straight, yukhei is not dumb. 

he guesses. he’s sure of nothing, these days.

(the only thing yukhei knows for sure, the truth that he can’t deny is that, at the intersection between need and desire, when he has mark’s lips on his neck and mark’s dick pressed against his own in the tight grip of his hand, a single thought plagues his mind: that mark trusts him and chose him to see him like this, unraveled and so, so far from the morals he’s always been encased within, and yukhei was never a believer, but for mark. god, would he learn to pray for him, would he give it all up to taste heaven in his arms.

when they both come down from their highs, a harsh shiver wrecking down mark’s spine, yukhei holds him close and presses a soft kiss to the sensitive skin right behind his ear, his voice mellow when he says,

“i’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you.”

mark chuckles, tired and spent, and rolls until he’s pressed against yukhei’s side to tell him,

“you’re not so bad yourself.”)

⋇

it is yet another day of toast and cereal for breakfast at the dorm’s dining room, sleep making yukhei’s eyelids heavy and mark’s mouth part in a yawn. dejun, kunhang, renjun and yangyang are already gone for their first period class — yukhei’s skipping his, and he very much suspects mark is doing the exact same. 

coming in through the flimsy blinds, light reflects on a glass of water and casts a rainbow shadow over mark’s forehead. yukhei stares, entranced by the ethereality of it all, of mark lee’s moles and mark lee’s skin and mark lee’s smile and the way colors touch him so delicately, a work of art they worship with their warmth 

yukhei wishes it wasn’t like this; wishes it all was still more about missing jungwoo and less about admiring how precious mark is to him and seeking for his own happiness beside someone who is never going to love him back.

it was never supposed to be about love. 

“it’s always about love, yukhei,” ten says, fishing out his last coffee capsule from the back of the cabinet and stacking it into his too-expensive machine, something he bought to get johnny to hang at his room more often back in the days. yukhei would comment on how he switched coffee for tea a long time ago, but ten’s next words are enough of an explanation for him. 

“we all need a little taste of it, sometimes. just a little reminder.”

yukhei guesses he’s right, for he’d never felt something quite like this before, and once he took a sip of what mark had to offer him, he’d known he’d never be able to quench his thirst.

(a few rooms down the hallway, mark sits sandwiched between johnny and taeyong, coffee cups in their hands, quiet music in the background.

“what you’re doing to him isn’t fair, mark,” taeyong says in the end, a soft sigh passing the seam of his lips. 

mark frowns, spine going rigid, grip on his cup tightening and threatening to make it spill. yuta squeezes his bicep but it does not feel comforting at all — _these people know me too well_ , he thinks, and it’s bitter when it shouldn’t be.

“i’m not doing anything. it’s just sex,” mark says defensively, and johnny chuckles. 

“oh, mark. it’s never just sex.”)

“dude,” mark says from where he’s perched on yukhei’s desk while yukhei finishes typing an essay that is due in ten minutes, “how long’s it been since you fucked someone?”

yukhei’s fingers halt where they’d been punching his laptop’s keyboard a mere second ago, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open in a confused grimace. 

“what?” he asks, stealing an anxious glance to the clock on the corner of his screen that says he’s running out of time to upload his class submission. 

mark does not seem bothered by his clearly evident distress, for he just shrugs and dangles his legs into the air. 

yukhei downloads the google doc into his archives and opens the university’s portal.

“i asked how long it’s been since you last fucked someone,” mark laughs, reaching over to ruffle yukhei’s hair despite the way the taller’s cheeks flush every time he does so. “like, put your dick in them. cause it’s been a hella long time since i did.”

yukhei drags the archive he wants to upload across the screen and drops it onto the little cage designated for it. there are two minutes left for the deadline to be closed and pressing the last button to upload it looks like the hardest task ever. 

yukhei’s brain is running into overdrive because, _what the hell?_ it’s obviously been a long time since yukhei last _put it into someone_ , since he’s been unable to even kiss someone who wasn’t mark lee from the very first time they hooked up, but it’s not like they ever talked about it to conclude that they should be, in any way, exclusive. yukhei’s just too whipped for mark to think about _fucking someone else_ , but the revelation that mark’s apparently not been fucking any girls lately strikes him like a gunshot and leaves him dizzy. 

he chases away the thought of mark wanting him like he wants mark, because he’s still not that stupid yet, and heaves out a sigh. 

“really?” yukhei asks dumbly, pressing the button to upload his file. just in time.

“mhm,” mark hums, watching him with a barely concealed grin. “why do you look so shocked?”

“i thought,” yukhei starts, but then bites down his lip to think over the right words to say. “that you’d still be, you know. with girls and stuff.”

“oh,” it’s mark who looks stricken now, and yukhei feels kind of bad. “well, i did for a while after we first started messing around but like. not anymore, really. what we have is much easier, you know?”

yukhei does not think that the feelings webbing around his heart and making him almost unable to go a night without dreaming of dating mark are easier than chatting up a random person on a night out and taking them home, especially when you’re as handsome as mark lee is, but he says nothing and just closes his laptop instead. 

“i haven’t fucked anyone,” he says slowly, eyes fixed on the wall across them for a moment before glancing up at mark. “since we started this.”

“damn,” mark laughs, not meanly, albeit a little strained. yukhei’s leg twitches, and he slams his knee against the desk tabletop when mark asks, voice sultry in a way that does not suit him but ignites a wild fire in yukhei’s belly, “wanna try to fuck me? i’ve never done it like that before, you know.”

(taking mark’s second virginity feels to yukhei like the craziest kind of fever dream.

“you feel so fucking good,” he moans against mark’s shoulder. mark’s hips move against his own and yukhei thinks he’s going a little bit crazy, everything too heated up for him to truly grasp the extent of what they’re doing.

but then — 

it’s a whisper, so soft that yukhei is afraid to have made it up; a breathy moan, a small “yukhei” falling from mark’s pink, parted lips. and it shouldn’t mean anything, cause it surely doesn’t to mark, but to yukhei.

to yukhei it feels massive, because they’ve never said each other’s names like this — for yukhei believed it would be too much for mark, kind of like breaching their silent agreement of being friends and only friends, because friends do not think of each other when they cum —, and he is so overwhelmed that he comes inside mark a few thrusts after he hears it, body taut with tension, teeth grinding together so he doesn’t cry out mark’s name into the open of their room.

mark cums, too, with a couple strokes of yukhei’s hand around his cock, and he does cry out yukhei’s name, loud and unashamed.

yukhei closes his eyes, and wishes with all he has for mark to feel what he feels, too — a too-deep kind of love, eating away every last bit of his sanity and leaving him entirely at mark’s mercy.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, hello, welcome to the final show! wow, it’s been quite a ride, hasn’t it? i hope that this last chapter will be up to everyone’s expectations, and that you’ll enjoy the end of this crazy journey as much as i’ve enjoyed getting to write it.
> 
> like i said at the start, the general idea i had for this work was to write a maximum of ?? 3k words ???? to get out of my chest a silly little idea that i wanted to read. fast forward to today and, tada! here we are, 50k words full of feels that i hope you all will enjoy reading.
> 
> additional warnings for this chapter: very brief mention of vomit and drugs (one character has a bad trip and throws up, though it’s not really graphic), angst, angst and then some more
> 
> enjoy!!!! <3

keeping in mind everything that’s lead up to this very moment, yukhei finds himself absently thinking that if someone had told him a few months ago that events would unfold in the way they did, he probably would have never believed he’d end up here — _here_ being all hunched up in a bathroom stall in the public affairs and economics faculty, his teeth engraved on mark lee’s shoulder, heavy breathing against his neck, hands sticky with both their releases. 

when he tries to think about it, he finds that his chest tightens up at the mere thought of how things were not even a year ago — when mark was nothing more than his best friend, when yukhei’s head wasn’t filled with fantasies in which he gets to call mark his, and when his heart didn’t skip a beat every time the canadian so much as looked at him with those starry eyes of his. 

yukhei knows, despite how they’d promised otherwise, that things between them _have_ changed — knows it in the way he doesn’t ever want to touch anyone who isn’t mark, in the way mark confesses underneath him that he hasn’t been with other people for most of the time he’s been hooking up with yukhei; knows it in the way their friends stare at them like there’s a secret between them to be unfolded and showcased to the world, in the way they look at each other like they see everything. 

(yukhei knows, and then he wonders, when there’s no one but him to listen to his thoughts, water dripping from the showerhead in the warmest kind of rain, if mark could maybe, hypothetically, perhaps, feel something similar to what his lovesick heart feels.

it’s the wish of the damned, that yukhei knows too, because mark would never, ever allow himself to feel for another boy what yukhei feels for him, but still, sometimes — 

sometimes mark’s eyes will linger on his lips for a beat longer than they used to, and his touch will be softer and his words warmer, and yukhei will wonder and wonder until he fears that his thoughts will be louder than the constant drumming of water against tile and he’ll turn up the music to drown his ache and his need.)

whatever. for a long time now, yukhei’s been aware of how messy his thoughts tend to become when mark lee is near — sitting next to him in the library, when he’d playfully pinch yukhei’s thigh just to see him jump out of his study-induced haze, a little lion cub with the brightest eyes and the most charming smile; having lunch with him on the grass right behind the main building in their campus, mark’s head on his lap as he stares up at the clouds and tells yukhei about how he’s started writing songs again and how he really might show them to him one day; dancing with him on their usual night escapades with donghyuck and the rest, yukhei’s hands aching to grab mark by the waist, mouth desperate to free mark’s bottom lip from where it’s caught between sharp teeth; moaning out his name underneath yukhei, like it matters, like it’ll change anything — 

(like a prayer, yukhei allows himself to imagine sometimes; like they don’t know any better, like they’re forgiven for the sin that is to have each other like this, so entangled that yukhei does not know where he ends and mark begins; like yukhei is worthy of the sacrifice, like there’s no one to worship but him.)

yukhei should probably dig deeper into the implications that knowing all of these things hold for him, think about how he’s undeniably head over heels for his best friend who is — albeit a little questionably — still straight, but instead he chooses to wipe his hands clean on a piece of coarse toilet paper, weighing words on his tongue for a second before he speaks.

“beers later with the boys?” he asks at last, voice still a little bit shaky, because renjun has been nagging about it forever.

mark smiles, a bit dazedly in yukhei’s eyes, and nods his head a beat too late when he’s done buttoning his pants. 

“will be there,” he exhales before leaving yukhei on the stall, softening dick still out, lips longing for one last kiss mark doesn’t give him because he’s going to be late for his next class. “see you later, big boy!”

yukhei stays inside the stall for a few more minutes after he’s rearranged his clothes, staring at the green plastic door as he reconsiders his life choices, every decision that’s lead him to this moment in which he can shamefully admit that he’s fallen in love with mark lee, and he finds himself not lamenting any of them. 

because he’s always loved mark, the best friend he’s ever had, the only person who’s ever understood him better than yukhei understands himself — and if loving him has driven them to this point, where hands and lips speak of endearment louder than any words ever could, yukhei will not wish for things to be different, because mark deserves to know how much yukhei appreciates him, and if he doesn’t feel the same about him, well.

if he doesn’t feel the same, yukhei will be heartbroken, but he’ll never tell because he’ll never mess up his friendship with mark, which transcends every logical barrier and hasn’t _changed_ in essence even after they started hooking up — because there’s still _trust_ , maybe more than ever, and they still listen and tell and yukhei cannot imagine a life in which mark lee is not right by his side. 

he wonders, briefly, if he should tell mark about it — about liking him more than he’s ever liked anyone and wanting to spend years on end alone with him, getting to know every crevice of his self, falling more and more in love by the second —, but then his phone tells him he’s already late for his next class and yukhei decides against it.

some secrets are better kept silent, no matter how loudly they resonate when it’s only the both of them in the room.

⋇

it’s sicheng who mentions it first. 

“so,” he starts off, voice casual as yukhei beats him on yet another virtual football match in the dorm’s common room, eyes never leaving the screen as he begins to flip yukhei’s world upside down, “you and mark. are you two like, a thing right now?”

yukhei chokes on his breath, eyes shooting open as he turns to face sicheng. the older does not waver and takes advantage of yukhei’s distraction to score a goal. 

it feels too much like a metaphor for his life, yukhei’s mind supplies uselessly — always so busy looking and marvelling at someone to notice it when things start to go wrong. 

“what?” he asks, like sicheng will take back his words and avoid pushing yukhei down the abyss. and really, yukhei could lie to him, he _really_ could — only ten knows about what he and mark get up to, at least part of it, and he could tell sicheng that he and mark are still _just_ the best friends mark so badly wants them to remain as, but blatantly lying to one of his closest friends feels too much like going against his morals and yukhei’s never been one to do those things anyways. 

“i asked if you and mark are a thing now, xuxi,” sicheng repeats, like he’s not aware of the implications his words have.

yukhei could lie, but after thinking about it for a few seconds, he finds with a bitter taste that saying the truth does not put at risk the promise he made mark months ago now. _please don’t tell anyone_ , mark’s voice resonates inside yukhei’s skull, and his throat feels a little dry.

“we’re not a thing,” yukhei says in the end, because they really are not, no matter how badly he wishes they were. and because he’s nervous, and human nature often pushes people to do things they regret right after they’re done, he doesn’t shut up and finally asks the question he’s been holding in for almost two years now, the malice behind it foreign and sour on his tongue. “are you and yuta hyung a thing, huh?” 

and he knows it is a mean thing to say, realises it a beat too late, when the words are already past his lips, floating out in the open of the room and unable to be erased. it’s not like him. he feels a little bit sick. 

sicheng deserves yukhei to be a better friend, one that does not dig into probably old, definitely healing wounds. abstimedly, yukhei wishes for sicheng to punch him — he feels like he deserves it a lot right now.

sicheng doesn’t. instead, he just shrugs and his voice doesn’t waver as he finally gives yukhei an answer that does not feel satisfactory at all.

“we were a thing once,” sicheng says, and it’s not as sad as it is tired. yukhei’s heart gives a painful wrench inside his chest — he feels awful. “not all of us can afford to ignore our feelings for so long,” he finally pauses the game, then, and looks straight into yukhei’s eyes, and suddenly he feels very, very naked and vulnerable. “i know you haven’t spared jungwoo a thought in ages, and yet your eyes shine whenever mark so much as comes up in the conversation. stop lying to yourself,” he says before he gets up and leaves yukhei sitting on the ground, dumbfounded as he watches sicheng head for the stairs.

 _he made a point, you’ve been lying to yourself for too long now_ , yukhei’s mind pipes in when his eyes start burning from staring at the blinking tv screen for too long, and the implications are so heavy that he turns it off and heads for his room before he starts crying. 

(sicheng is not angry at him the next time they see each other, and yukhei feels like he doesn’t deserve how well the older’s always treated him. 

yukhei goes to see ten, and sicheng lets him sit on his bed and snuggles against his shoulder like yukhei didn’t try to tug at a hidden part of his heart to protect himself, and it’s by sheer force of will that he accepts it without breaking down into a fit of cries.

things are so fragile, yukhei knows for sure, but some friendships burn brighter and for much longer than the sun.)

⋇

renjun notices it, after sicheng first mentions mark and yukhei’s increasingly tender glances, and it starts to feel like the end of something. 

yukhei’s lounging on his bed when his phone vibrates where it’d been laying atop his stomach, interrupting the thoughts he’d gotten lost in while staring at the blank ceiling. he doesn’t really know how to be alone in the room anymore, so used to mark’s endless stories and contagious laugh that him not being there almost feels alien, like something’s wrong and it’s not just that mark has a late class today, and it makes yukhei’s mind go wild until the gentle feeling snaps him out of his trance.

**renjun 134** — 1 minute ago

_we need to talk_

yukhei’s eyebrows arch in confusion, using his left elbow to leverage himself on the mattress and push himself upwards so he can stare at the same four words in a little more detail.

there’s nothing more to what they say, and so he frowns and texts back, ‘ _what’s wrong???_ ’

because surely there must be something wrong. they’re meeting in an hour — right after mark’s done with his class — with jeno, jaemin and donghyuck for beers at a new pub outside campus, and while they get along perfectly fine, close friends and all of that, yukhei’s not sure he’s ever really _needed_ to talk to renjun before. 

**renjun 134** — right now

_nothing wrong. meet me in my room rn @ 134_

yukhei rolls his eyes fondly — as if they all didn’t have their contacts saved with their room number for emergency issues —, heaves out a sigh, and keeps his frown on for another second before pushing himself to get off his bed and tuck his phone away into the pocket of his jeans. he spares one last glance at mark’s messy, _messy_ bed (he’s forgotten to wash his sheets again, and yukhei hates himself for allowing him to sleep with him while he keeps up with his anti-laundry anctics) before grabbing his key and making his way downstairs to renjun’s and yangyang’s room. 

renjun is, unsurprisingly, alone when yukhei pushes his door open. 

“yangyang’s with ten,” is the first thing the younger says when he hears yukhei’s steps, rolling on his bed until he’s laying on his stomach and staring at him for a second. “he spends more time with him than here, honestly. close the door.”

“man,” yukhei laughs, obeying nevertheless, before walking to sit on yangyang’s bed — it’s his right as his hyung, he tells himself —, “did i do something? are you gonna beat me up?”

renjun holds his gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes, too fondly for yukhei to keep thinking he’s mad at him. he’s still quite confused, though.

“you did nothing wrong, you silly giant,” renjun says gently, and yukhei can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of his lips. “i just wanted to talk to you about something i’ve heard.”

“huh?” the sound comes as if punched out of his chest, because out of everything renjun could’ve said, after the incident with sicheng, _that_ is what makes yukhei’s blood run cold, eyes suddenly too wide and jaw too set for him to pass it as nonchalance. could it be that he knew about him and mark? had they not been discrete enough? cause, sure, they _might_ leave marks on each other and they’re _maybe_ a little bit clingier than they used to be before, these days, but nobody’s mentioned anything about it and, as much as yukhei would love to tell everyone that it’s him making mark glow the way he has lately, he’s not sure mark wants anyone to find out about them. 

(he’s probably told somebody about it, yukhei tells himself, but surely _not_ their common friends. johnny and taeyong are his main suspicions, but with mark lee. 

you can never be too sure, when it comes to him.)

“i mean, i’m sure they were gonna tell you guys later,” _is he referring to yukhei and mark as one unit?_ yukhei’s feeling a little lightheaded, “but jeno and jaemin are dating. like, officially. they told us — donghyuck and i, i mean, this morning.”

yukhei stares at renjun blankly for a few, eternally silent seconds before frowning, eyebrows drawn together as he processes the information.

“haven’t they, like,” he starts, a little scared of sounding delusional, “been dating since forever? i thought they’d been… _official_ for months now.”

renjun laughs, a soft and gentle sound as he shakes his head, and his eyes are warm when he finally looks back at yukhei. 

“yeah, i guess it was pretty obvious that they’re in love and all that but, they hadn’t talked about it till now,” he accompanies his shrug with a chuckle, tilts his head to the side before speaking again. _oh, how yukhei wishes he hadn’t spoken again_. “when are you gonna talk about it with mark, by the way?”

“what?” the words hit yukhei like a truck, and he fights with all his might to stop the blush creeping up into his cheeks. as with everything else, he fails. “what are you talking about?! renjun!”

“dude, it’s pretty obvious that you like him. don’t take it to heart, i don’t mean it in a bad way,” renjun smiles, but yukhei already feels shaken up. “you’re lucky there’s no one in earth as oblivious as mark, but still. you should probably tell him, just to get it out of your chest.”

“mark’s straight,” yukhei says uselessly, too loud into the room, and renjun bursts out laughing. 

“sure he is, hyung,” he grins. “sure he is.”

(“today was fun,” yukhei says while he walks with mark back to their dorm from the pub, renjun choosing to spend the night with donghyuck, streetlamps the only source of light in the cold of seoul’s night, “i’m happy for jeno and jaemin, they’re cute together.”

“yeah, they are,” mark shivers and yukhei offers his jacket, but he declines. it aches just a little, “but the kids were being a little weird, don’t you think?”

yukhei thinks of renjun’s knowing glances and the way donghyuck had to physically restrain himself from saying something whenever mark’s hand would so much as brush yukhei’s, and he forces himself to shrug. “dunno. they’re always weird.”

mark merely hums, and yukhei’s already picturing him with his messy hair and ratty pyjama shirt getting in yukhei’s bed when he announces, “hey, i’m gonna be crashing with yuta hyung tonight, johnny’s gone somewhere with taeyong and i promised i wouldn’t leave him alone.”

and yukhei — yukhei can only nod and smile and blame the stiffness of it all on the cold, and force himself to ignore the blade that digs in his chest. _you’re leaving me alone, then_ , is not his right to say, because he’s already had mark for much more than he deserves to, and still he’s greedy and aches for more. and it’s not fair, because mark is allowed to be with his friends as much as yukhei is to be with his own, but still, he wants.

“oh,” he babbles instead, and hopes that for once mark won’t be able to see through him. _i’m always gonna want more, i’m selfish like this, please say you love me before you go_. “have fun then, markie! i’ll go see if ten’s got any good wine left.”

mark smiles back at him, and there’s something off on it, but yukhei doesn’t push it. he’s already pushed too much all this time, he guesses. 

he still wants more.)

⋇

ten does not have any good wine left, but it’s not like yukhei wanted to get drunk in the first place. 

“sicheng’s taken yangyang, dejun and kunhang out for dinner,” ten informs him when yukhei knocks on his door, looking too much like a kicked puppy for the older to be able to resist letting him in. “it was supposed to be my self-care night but, you know. come in, i’ll give you a face mask.”

“i don’t want a face mask,” yukhei frowns, but ten’s already retrieving one from the ensuite. he thinks he catches a glimpse of his tweezers, and yukhei’s immediately on alert. “hyung, you’re not touching my eyebrows again, _ever_. don’t even think about it.”

“what? i did a fucking good job! you looked better than ever,” ten huffs out, clearly offended, and yukhei’s too upset to keep dealing with his antics — he’ll just let him be.

“mark’s sleeping with yuta tonight,” he chooses to mumble instead, letting himself drop on ten’s bed and curling up in the smaller ball he can muster. 

his legs are too long. there’s always some kind of problem to everything he wants. yukhei’s about to cry.

“oh no,” ten coos, coming out of the bathroom with his full skincare box in his hands, sitting right on the edge of the mattress and laying a comforting hand on yukhei’s bent knee. “i’m sorry, sweetie. i didn’t think mark’d give a try to any other man that wasn’t you, honestly. this is quite the surprise. sicheng’s gonna freak out if he hears about it.”

and honestly, yukhei loves ten as much as he would’ve loved his older brother, if he’d ever had one, but sometimes he becomes too, too much for him to handle.

yukhei stares at ten with his big eyes and pouty lips for one, two, three seconds before he breaks down into the loudest _bawl_ , tears falling down his cheeks like a waterfall.

“they’re not fucking, hyung!” he all but sobs, and hopes in the back of his mind for the walls to be thick enough to quiet down his words. “they’re just sleeping, but i, i thought, cause we- cause me and markie, we sleep together every night, and i was looking forward to it tonight but then he said he’d be leaving and i’m so fucking sad.”

ten stares blankly at him for a few beats, enough for yukhei’s little cries to resonate too loudly into the room, and then he slowly, _very_ slowly places down his box and arches an eyebrow. 

“you and mark what?” he asks slowly, like he’s afraid of what yukhei might say. “yukhei, xuxi, baby. did you say you and mark sleep together every night?”

“yes,” yukhei mumbles, trying to curl up into himself further and failing again. he sort of wants to scream. 

“ _every night_?” ten pushes, as if he can’t quite believe it. yukhei’s heart aches because he _knows_ it might sound a little bit crazy, a little too serious, but it’s just them — it’s always been them, mark and yukhei, boundaries an unknown concept to them.

“yes,” he repeats, huffing out a little broken sound that is more pathetic than anything else. “i’m so in love with him, hyung. it’s not even funny anymore.”

right as the words leave his mouth, yukhei knows that he’s done the wrong thing, air catching in his throat and threatening to choke him, and it has nothing to do with anyone but himself.

because the truth has always been crystal clear inside his chest, an undeniable fact as bright as the sun around which the earth orbits, as easy as making a baby laugh with feather-like tickles: that he loves mark lee in a way he didn’t believe possible in the first place, like there’s pink and yellow and warmth filling up his insides and he’s not the liar for so long he thought himself to be, but still —

saying it out loud, putting in words the way he feels about the person he believes to be the most important in his life, letting the sounds reverberate between the four walls of ten’s room; it feels gigantic. 

“oh my god,” ten mumbles, and all the teasing is gone from his voice, only deep concern soaking his tone as he moves up on the bed to stroke yukhei’s dark hair. he feels like a baby. “yukhei, darling, fuck. it’s okay, hey, i promise! you’re gonna be fine.”

“you can’t promise,” he sniffles, and ten only keeps scratching gently at his scalp. “he’s straight, and he’s never gonna love me back. i’m just his best friend.”

“yukhei,” ten says, a little more firmly this time, and he finally tilts his head enough to look at the older’s face for the first time since he started crying. “listen, i might not know many things, but what i _do_ know is that there’s no single straight man in the world that a. sleeps with his ‘best friend’ every night and b. would be able to resist you.”

the words serve their purpose — yukhei laughs, but he’s still crying, and the sounds he makes resemble more a dying zombie than a stupid college kid. still, he moves to wrap his long arms around ten to give him a tight hug, and the one he gets in return is just as warm and much more comforting. 

yukhei will always be grateful to have him bring him back to his feet when he slips.

“thank you,” yukhei sniffles, wiping at his quickly reddening eyes, always too sensitive. “you’re the best hyung ever,” he smiles, all teary-eyed and wobbly lips, and it’s the most sincere thing he’ll ever do. “i love you, ten hyung.”

“oh my god, enough! you’re making me blush!” ten laughs then, playfully pushing at yukhei’s chest before climbing out of his embrace and stretching his back like a cat. “i have an idea to make this a good night _and_ help you get over your breakdown, which, by the way, you shouldn’t give much thought anyways. i’m sure yuta’s not gonna steal mark from you.”

“i’m not sure i wanna hear it,” yukhei chuckles, because ten’s ideas tend to get a little crazy sometimes. “but sure, hyung.”

“oh, trust me,” ten smirks, and it’s still scary even after everything they’ve been through. “you’re gonna _love_ it.”

when sicheng walks into the room with yangyang, kunhang and dejun in tow, he’s met with a sight straight out of a romcom movie. he drops the bag he’d had hanging on his shoulder, eyebrows raised in concern. yukhei cannot blame him.

“oh fuck,” sicheng mumbles, and well. _fucking mood_ , yukhei thinks.

see, ten’s amazing plan to make yukhei forget about how he’s not sleeping with mark lee for the first night in literal months — which might not be _that much_ of a drama as his enamoured brain wants yukhei to believe — involved his traitorous tweezers, an insane amount of skincare products and a bottle of hair bleach. 

_“you’re gonna look so fucking good in blond, mark’s gonna be all over you when he sees you baby,”_ ten had promised, and yukhei’d been so exhausted from his extensive crying fit that he hadn’t had it in him to fight him. _“just relax, let me work my magic.”_

and just like that, yukhei’s ended up like this — hair soaked with a thick layer of bleach, his eyebrows way more defined than his future career and his skin absorbing every bit of the liquid dripping from the face mask that’s quickly drying up against his face. and really, he’d been relaxing while ten’d decided to give him a manicure for the first time in his life, light blue nail polish adorning the tip of his fingers while he fought not to laugh so the facemask wouldn’t crumple, but then sicheng walked in and all of his alarms went off. 

“ge,” yukhei panics as he looks up at the older, reaching up to take off the mask so he can properly talk. ten frowns, tuts disapprovingly, but yukhei’s more worried about something else, “what the hell happened to your hair?”

because sicheng’s adorable blond, bowl cut that he’d had last time yukhei’d seen him two days ago is gone, and in its place there’s black choppy bangs that look way more uneven than they should. 

behind sicheng, yangyang snorts, and his bright orange hair does not help yukhei’s suddenly spiking neves at all. 

“ten’s been playing hairdresser’s lately,” sicheng replies with a tight-lipped smile, and yukhei’s stomach drops. “good luck when you wash your hair, i hope you won’t end up bald.”

“sicheng!” ten cries, utterly horrified at his words. “he won’t end up _bald_ , just blond! look how cute yangyangie looks, you’re just upset you asked me to cut your hair.”

sicheng rolls his eyes and yangyang absolutely glows at the compliment. yukhei briefly wonders if he’d be able to pull off a bald kind of look. he does not think so. he’s going to fucking cry _again_.

“you said you needed the practice, ge,” kunhang pipes up, but ten fixes him with a glare and he mimics a zip closing over his mouth.

“don’t worry yukhei, i’m sure you’re gonna look really good blond,” dejun says softly as he walks into the room to sit next to him on ten’s mattress, gently grabbing yukhei’s hand. the gesture is so soft that he does think he’s really going to cry again. “ten ge! his nails look cute, i want you to paint mine too.”

“i brought soju,” sicheng says, then, and all hell breaks loose.

(yukhei ends up sleeping in ten’s bed, hair a pretty shade of blond despite what everyone had been expecting and feeling a little bit buzzed from the two sips of soju he takes, and it’s not even half as comfortable as sleeping with mark against his chest is, but at least his friends make him happy and tomorrow will be a new day.

yeah, it will be a new day.)

⋇

in the morning, ten prepares tea for yukhei and sicheng before they have to leave for class, and so yukhei does not see mark for breakfast. they do not have any coinciding free periods for the day, either, and so for the first time in a very, very long time, yukhei goes almost a full day — 24 hours, 1440 minutes, 86400 seconds — without seeing mark lee. and sure, mark sends him silly memes through text and yukhei complains about jeno and jaemin being all over each other during lunch, but it feels kind of weird for some unknown reason and yukhei hates that it does.

when yukhei comes back to the dorm for dinner, exhausted from the day and the classes and everything he has to get done before next week, he’s almost forgotten about his new hair and apparently glowing skin — jaemin complimented him so much he’d thought he was gonna explode with how much he’d blushed.

“markie,” he calls out as he opens the door, dropping his bag heavily on his desk once he walks inside. “i had the worst day _ever_ , man, do you have any idea how many essays they want me to get done in a week?”

mark does not answer straight away, and yukhei frowns before turning around to face him. he’s sitting cross-legged on his own bed, feet on his pillow _again_ , eyes wide and mouth parted open as he stares at him. 

“what,” yukhei starts, a little lost. “is something wrong?”

“wrong?” mark repeats, sounding dumbstruck. yukhei doesn’t follow. “dude, what the hell. your hair is so, you look like, a fucking greek god or something. what the fuck.”

yukhei’s blood rushes to his cheeks, blush spreading from the base of his neck to the tip of his ears, and he whines before turning around to busy himself with sorting through his stuff. “you’re too nice,” he mumbles shyly, because, well.

he’s head over heels for this boy. who does he think he is, saying those things about him?

it’s silent in the room for a moment, then, until mark’s arms wrap themselves around yukhei’s middle and he’s resting his cheek against his upper back, so warm and gentle that yukhei’s heart absolutely melts and he could cry with how much he loves him. 

the knowledge is not rewarding.

“ _you_ are too nice,” mark mumbles, nuzzling at his shoulder, and yukhei’s knees grow weak. “you’re gonna slay all those essays, just like you always do, hm? lemme help you relax now.”

and yukhei might be many things, might have many faults and almost as many regrets, but when mark treats him like this — like he matters, like he deserves him —, he can never say no. 

he’s greedy just like that, he’s always known.

they end up making out on yukhei’s bed for a solid one hour, soft and wet kisses and soft and tender touches that do not lead them anywhere except to the point where yukhei wants to fall asleep like this for the rest of his life, with mark lee on top of him and his hands buried in his dry, bleached hair. 

it feels like paradise, like a too good dream came true, and by now he should’ve known how every dream inevitably ends — with a harsh crash against the ground, reality hitting like a truck, painful and bone-cracking.

mark pulls away from him, cheeks flushed and lips red and wet with spit, and yukhei does not think there’s any god in the olympus that’s allowed to look half as good as mark does when they’re like this. he goes to kiss him again, but then mark gives him a smile that does not quite reach his eyes and says, voice a little strained,

“i’m gonna go to sleep now, okay? i’m dead tired today.”

and yukhei doesn’t know what switches right in this moment and he feels lost in a way he’s never felt before, because he goes to sleep right under yukhei’s arm every night, but today mark lee climbs off his bed to crawl into his messy one before turning off the light. 

“goodnight,” yukhei says into the dark, because it all feels strange, foreign, like a nightmare. 

“night,” mark mumbles back, and they do not stay up until four am talking about life nor making each other laugh until falling asleep with bare skin touching is the most natural thing.

they do not, and yukhei is unable to fall asleep that night, heart beating too hard against his ribs and stomach too tight for him to breathe.

⋇

things start becoming awkward after that one night, and yukhei wishes he could say he understands why; what changes, what’d he done wrong, when exactly mark realized that yukhei wants from him more than he’ll ever deserve to have and that he’ll never change, greedy and selfish in the place he thought himself to be a liar before mark wandered into his life and showed him just how sweet love feels on the heart.

as always, it starts off with the small things — details no one but yukhei spare a look at, because nobody’s as infatuated with mark lee as he is, nobody believes him to be the precious being yukhei knows he is, no one’s heart but his wilts when things start changing in a friendship yukhei’d believed eternal. 

it goes a little like this, sad tune playing in the background of the coldest winter days, spring too far from reach to bring warmth to yukhei’s slowly freezing soul. 

they stop sleeping together every night, and it’s not as much a matter of sex as it is of distancing, because mark coming undone under — or above — yukhei was never a requisite for him to climb under his clean sheets and cling to him like a lifeline for sleep in those nights where the wind blew the coldest and the rain poured the hardest against the glass of their window. 

they stop sleeping together simply because mark decides he no longer wants to; he doesn’t say it, would never dare to mention it just like they never agreed on it becoming a thing in the first place, because saying things makes them become real and maybe dreams are meant to stay just like that — a flimsy fragment of imagination, sweet and tender and healing for the soul, always gone by the time morning comes breaking through. and yukhei will never hold it against him, because fact is fact despite hearts and minds wishing otherwise; mark lee was never his in the first place, yukhei’d never had the power to keep him in his arms forever, the taste of his lips the most precious reward and the feeling of his hands so ethereal that it is no wonder he’s no longer allowed that privilege anymore.

(he thinks of eve and the eden, and tasting that one apple, and then he thinks of mark’s bible resting on the corner of his desk and it makes his heart ache.)

and it shouldn’t mean anything, because mark has been yukhei’s best friend for much longer than he’s been the object of his every romantic fantasy, but then they stop spending every possible moment of their daily lives together and it feels too close to the inevitable end of something magnificent that it has yukhei sobbing into ten’s pillow one night, when he’d been unable to stand the static silence of his bedroom any more, mark’s headphones pushed into his ears, no stupid movie playing between them and no words different from _how was your day_ or _i’m so tired_ being shared. 

“yukhei, c’mon,” ten sighs tiredly, arms crossed over his chest as he watches yukhei wet his pillow with his tears not for the first time this week. “sicheng’s gonna get here any moment now, do you want him to see you crying like this?”

“you don’t understand,” yukhei sniffles instead, and he hates how his voice breaks just as much as he hates himself for knowing by heart every single dip of mark lee’s body. “he just, we don’t even talk anymore. i don’t know what i did wrong, and every time i try to ask him, he just flees and i don’t know what to do anymore. it hurts so bad, hyung. it hurts so bad.”

he does not know, not really, because things between them changed so suddenly and so fast that yukhei hadn’t had enough time to assimilate mark slipping out of his hold to go to his own bed at night to notice how they stopped going together to the library, too, or to dinner or on late night walks on their own. 

mark stopped telling yukhei about the songs he writes, and then he started to spend most of his time with johnny and yuta and his other friends, and he no longer talked to yukhei about it nor about anything else, really, and too soon it felt like yukhei was sharing a room with a stranger and not with the person who knew him the best in the whole entire world. 

maybe love is also about this, yukhei’s pitiful mind suggests sometimes, when he’s lost track of time from staring at the ceiling in silence for too long — about drifting apart, and learning to be without the person you so desperately want to be with, because as much as you ache to be together, things are not always meant to work out in the end. 

(yukhei thinks of mark not wanting him as more than a friend, and of him regretting ever letting yukhei see the most vulnerable side of him and choosing to push him out of his life to avoid repeating the same mistake again. his whole body aches at the thought, and a harsh shiver wrecks down his spine and punches the ugliest kind of sob out of his lungs.)

“you did nothing wrong,” ten says firmly, finally sitting down on the bed and placing a warm hand on yukhei’s back, grounding. “seriously, you didn’t. it’s him who’s always looked for you, hasn’t it? you just gave him everything he could’ve asked for and then some more, because you’re too good for your own good, honestly. if anything, it’s his fault that you’re like this right now, and you should be angry, xuxi.”

“how is it his fault,” yukhei huffs, finally pushing his face off the pillow and allowing himself to take one deep breath. “it’s me that got greedy, hyung, not him. i promised him we’d stay just friends, and then i went and fell for him and fucked up everything.”

“two don’t play if one doesn’t want to, yukhei,” ten pushes, ever the rational mind yukhei doesn’t want to hear right now, “and from what i’ve heard, he clearly _wanted to_ , didn’t he? he’s being selfish right now, and it’s _him_ that should come apologizing to you, and it’s _him_ that fucked up by being this horrible to you. you have no idea how mad at him i am, and i think you should be, too.”

yukhei can only shrug. and ten could be right, he won’t deny it — yukhei’s mind has never really been good at processing things when mark lee is involved in the mix —, but there are some things in life that yukhei’s always known for sure and that will never change no matter what. 

he’s never, ever going to be able to blame mark for them falling out like this, because it is not mark’s fault that yukhei’s heart wants to keep him close forever and it is not mark’s fault that he did not know when to stop and ended up asking for more than he’ll ever be allowed to have. 

“it’s whatever, hyung,” yukhei sniffles in the end, sitting up and wiping at his eyes so harshly that a few eyelashes cling to his fingertips when he moves his hands away, “i’m gonna go back to bed, i’m sorry for bothering you.”

“you don’t bother me, you silly boy” ten frowns, hand gripping yukhei’s wrist before he has time to stand up. “and you’re staying here, no arguments allowed.”

(they’re both fast asleep by the time sicheng comes back to the room, and he’s met with a sight that warms his heart just a little. 

ten’s arms are wrapped around yukhei’s shoulders, and yukhei’s almost all draped over the older like he’s not the biggest out of them all, mouth open and drooling all over the pillow. it is as cute as it is funny, and so sicheng snaps a quick picture and sends it to their groupchat.

**chengie 527** — 7 hours ago

_[image attached] lol rip ten ge_

**yangx2** **134** — 7 hours ago

_lololol yukhei’s gonna be crushing those elastic bones and then we’ll never hear the end of it_

**xiaojunnie 433** — 7 hours ago

_uwuuuu they’re so cute :( was yukhei sad again??? :(((_

**kunhang the best 433** — 7 hours ago

_dejun can u pls check the ensuite i think there might be a ghost in there_

**kun hyung** — 7 hours ago

_go to sleep y’all wtf it’s 2 am_

**ten hyungie 527** — right now

 _ur all just jealous i get to sleep with xuxi and it shows <3_)

⋇

yukhei’s known that going out tonight was a bad idea since the very first moment ten started nagging him about it. 

_“you need to distract yourself, yukhei,”_ he’d said, already going through the younger’s wardrobe to put an outfit together for him to wear, like yukhei’s say in the whole ordeal lacked importance. it probably did. _“i’m not letting you stay here alone all night digging yourself deeper into misery, absolutely not. if mark’s allowed to have fun with his friends then you are too. the kids miss their yukhei ge buying them drinks and all that, too.”_

thinking about it now, with a drink in his hand that he does not feel like downing at all and his bank account mourning the loss of the money he spent on treating dejun, kunhang and yangyang, yukhei guesses that ten using their younger friends to make a point makes them kind of resemble a split-up couple of parents or something like that. 

so yeah, ten made yukhei go to their usual club tonight, ironed clothes and perfectly-styled blond hair making him look less like the lifeless lump he’s been feeling like lately, and then he disappeared and no one’d been surprised about it. he’s been gone for a while now, probably kissing whoever he’s fancied tonight, and yukhei finds himself kind of envious of him — he too wants to be able to kiss whoever without his head bursting with anxious thoughts and his heart breaking at the evidence that he does not want to kiss someone who is not mark lee, no matter how unfair he’s been to him.

a heavy sigh is pushed past his lips as he chases away his increasingly bitter thoughts with a long sip of rum and coke, and he tries to tune back in his friends conversation about kun’s latest crush. he doesn’t manage to, for as soon as he glances around them, he catches sight of a scene that will probably haunt his worst nightmares for years on end now.

and really, yukhei shouldn’t be as hurt nor as surprised as he is right now, because it’s been long since the beautiful dream in which he lived for months ended, and reality is harsh and made out of unforgiving, straight facts. but seeing mark lee’s hands resting on a girl’s waist, her arms around his neck, their lips slotted together in the filthiest kind of kiss yukhei’s seen so far tonight, makes yukhei’s stomach churn and his eyes burn with tears he refuses to shed. it’s probably not the first time he’s done it ever since he started erasing yukhei’s presence from his life, his traitorous mind supplies, and his throat feels tight. 

suddenly, being here feels like the worst kind of punishment yukhei could undergo, and so he pushes his glass into sicheng’s hands without a word. sicheng gives him a confused look, and yukhei tries to get his tongue to work.

“i,” he manages to say, voice shaky as he interrupts kunhang, “i’m gonna, i’m gonna go home, guys. i don’t feel so well.”

everyone’s faces paint with concern, but yukhei doesn’t have it in him to do anything else than rush for the exit without looking back once. he thinks he hears someone calling his name, but it doesn’t matter. 

nothing matters right now, except the burning feeling inside yukhei’s stomach telling him that it’s done for real, now, no coming back. 

the alarm rings. it’s time to wake up.

(back in the club, ten’s hands are closed into tight fists as he glares at johnny suh, ready to fight him for the first time in literal years — so far from the loving gazes and tender touches they’ve always shared with each other. 

“listen, it’s really fucking complicated, okay? i can’t tell him what to do!” johnny says, exasperated, as ten drags him towards a quieter part of the place so he can hear him well. 

“i don’t think it’s so complicated telling him to stop being a fucking asshole to yukhei,” ten says, pointer finger digging into johnny’s chest, as if he could drive it through him, “and to get his fucking shit together! cause i swear to god, i’m _this_ fucking close to having a fucking talk with him, and then you’re not gonna be able to cover for him any more.”

“he’s going through a lot, ten, you fucking know he is,” and johnny sounds defensive now, ever the protective older brother he’s always thought of himself as. “it’s not fucking easy to accept stuff like this, you can’t blame him for not being sure or seeking comfort in what he knows!”

“of course i can blame him, and i _fucking_ do,” ten snarls, looking away for a second so he can catch his breath. “fucking do something, do you hear me? i’m not tolerating this shit any further.”

and with that, he’s gone, and his words weight more than the heaviest stones.)

⋇

yukhei’s eyes are red and swollen, and he hasn’t been able to catch a second of sleep ever since he crawled into bed last night feeling like the most miserable person in the whole entire world. 

his mind’s been whirling non-stop ever since he made a run home from the club, too hurt for him to manage to stop the tears flowing down his cheeks like a torrent, warm and angry against the cold wind nipping at his cheeks.

 _mark_ , his brain screamed at him as he buried his face in his pillow to try and quiet it down, and it resonated right inside his chest, tight against the bottom of his throat. _why, why, why_ , like there’s a reason to be had, like there’s more to it than the mere truth mark had never hidden from him: that he doesn’t like boys, could’ve never loved yukhei the way he loves him, that it was always meant to end like this; yukhei’s heart broken and spilling out of his pores, the feeling he for so long ached to feel wrecking every bit of his sanity and leaving him lifeless after all — after getting a taste of heaven, after learning the kind of love that makes you want to be with someone forever, no matter what, no matter where.

(it feels too much like a divine punishment — he tasted the apple, and now there’s no coming back, for he’ll always ache for it again, greed engraved in his bones, mark’s lips both the fruit and the snake.)

yukhei wondered, after curling up in bed for what felt like forever, if maybe mark would take the girl back to their room, like he used to before, and the thought made him feel so sick that he ended up dry heaving over the toilet. his stomach felt too tight for anything to come out, though, and hours passed by and mark did not come back, and so yukhei cried and cried, and now that he’s sitting on ten’s bed nursing on one of his teas, he feels like he’s lost all sense and purpose, a beaten up ragdoll that aches for a different kind of life.

“you saw them,” yukhei mumbles, and he’s too tired to cry again. “he took her home, didn’t he? he didn’t sleep here.”

ten sits on his desk hair, dark bags under his eyes proof of the fact that he too didn’t sleep much last night, and he sighs and runs a hand over his face. 

it must be hard, yukhei thinks bitterly, for ten to have had to deal with his problems for so long. he feels sorry, because he seems to always take more than he’s given, but then ten speaks and it all goes wrong again.

“i saw them, yes,” ten gives, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at yukhei, “and yeah, they left together. i’m not gonna lie to you, but,” and he thinks his words for a seconds, enough for yukhei’s chest to tighten again, like there’s any chance for this not to mean what it means. as if. “i don’t think they fucked or anything. rumour has it mark lee wasn’t able to get it up, you know? i’ve heard he slept at johnny’s last night.”

and out of everything yukhei could feel after hearing ten’s words, out of every single feeling that could zap through his veins right now, it is not relief nor confusion nor anything else that he feels. 

it is anger, so red and vivid that it makes his head shoot up to give ten a glare that he’ll regret the second he walks out of this room and turns the tone in his voice harsh and unforgiving as he speaks.

“what the fuck are you talking about,” he hisses, like a wild wolf ready to tear down to shreds whatever gets thrown his way. “you don’t know that nor anything else, stop fucking trying to make things look pink to me! i’m not fucking dumb!”

ten looks taken aback for a second, eyes wide and confused because yukhei’s never, ever raised his voice before, always kind and mellow and understanding. but he looks kind of wild, now, like he’s really out of it and it has ten rising up to the challenge like a tide, always unable to back down from a fight when it comes down to it.

“don’t you dare talk to me like that,” he glares, standing up like his seat is scalding hot, “i’m not fucking making things look anything! i know what i’ve seen and what i’ve heard and what johnny’s fucking told me, and it’s not my fault you and mark are acting like fucking kids around each other!”

yukhei almost doesn’t hear ten’s words, brain too buzzed with rage that it makes him want to scream until he’s destroyed everything he’s ever had. human nature is like that too, sometimes — yukhei has in ten the greatest friend he could wish for, and yet right now he wants to end that, too, to end everything until he’s left alone with no one to look at him and see him crumble under the weight of life and heartbreak.

“i’m not acting like _anything_ and you know it,” he all but yells, standing up too so he can hover over ten. “stop being a bitch about it, if you don’t wanna deal with me anymore you can just fucking say so!”

“don’t yell at me, and don’t you fucking call me a bitch ever again in your fucking life!” ten screams back, face red, and yukhei’s pretty sure the whole floor can hear them now. he wishes he could care. “if you just fucking _talked_ to each other it wouldn’t have to come down to it! honestly! i fucking love you yukhei, but there’s just so much one can take when you’re seeing the whole picture and none of it makes sense!”

yukhei wishes he and mark could talk about it — put in words whatever’s happened between them, the moment where things went wrong, so he could maybe beg for forgiveness and at least have his best friend back, no matter how much it’d hurt him to never be able to touch him again, so close yet so far away. but they’ve never acknowledged anything, and they will not start now, and so there’s no chance for salvation other than this — yukhei’s angry tears spilling from his eyes again, the perfect picture of a wreck, in his safe place that does not feel safe anymore.

it’s quiet for a while, then, yukhei turning away from ten so he can wipe hysterically at his face until he regains his breathing. he thinks over ten’s words and then his own, and when he comes to his senses, ten’s locked himself in the ensuite and yukhei feels helpless.

“hyung,” he calls out, voice cracking as he does so, nose all clogged up, “did you say you talked to johnny?”

“ _fuck off_ ,” ten shouts, and it sounds like he’s been crying, too. yukhei’s heart plummets down his stomach and cuts new wounds open against his insides; always too greedy, always ungrateful, the kind of friend nobody deserves to have, “go away. please.”

a soldier always knows when a battle’s been lost, and so making himself walk the way down the corridor to his own room is the least yukhei can do right now. 

friendship, yukhei thinks sadly when there’s no one but him in the room, mark’s bed still unmade but no sign of him ever having returned to the dorm; it might be like this sometimes, too. painful, unfair, dizzying, and maybe this one was a lesson he’d needed to be taught, after all — that he should cherish what he has, and be thankful he has someone so ready to take care of him on his very worst moments. that he needs to learn how to apologize, too, when a simple sorry won’t do the trick, when the lines of trust and comfort get blurry and he ends up clawing at the hearts of the people who love him the most.

yukhei thinks of a thousand of ways in which to say sorry to ten, and he ends up empty-handed, too exhausted to manage to do anything other than stare at the blank wall until time and space become impossible to grasp and he ends up falling asleep in the least rewarding kind of sleep.

when he goes to reach for his phone to type a message for ten three hours later, heart aching against his ribs, there’s already a notification from him awaiting on his inbox. 

**ten hyungie 527** — 11 minutes ago

_you know what, i might be a bitch sometimes_

_but i’m your bitch, don’t you fucking forget it_

_i’m not angry, but bring me some wine and i’ll forget about this_

and friendship might be about this too, sometimes; about forgiving when things go wrong without reason, when words are not meant, when there are greater things to be shared than a momentary fit of screams and jabs that hold no importance in the grand scheme of things. 

**xuxi giant baby 532** — 1 minute ago

_i’m sorry_

_i love you so much, i’m a fucking idiot_

_i’ll buy you as many bottles as you want_

**ten hyungie 527** — right now

_you’re the sweetest_

_dw about it bubu, i love you tooooo_

friendship might be about this, too; letting ten braid the longer strands of his hair and paint each of his nails a different color, and sharing a bottle of the most expensive wine yukhei could afford as a silent kind of apology, and using kinder words when talking about every stupidity that crosses their minds that night. 

(“are you two gonna scream at each other again? cause you scared yangyang, he was gonna knock on the door cause he was afraid you’d hit each other or something,” sicheng chuckles as he chews on some chips.

“it was just a little argument! xuxi got cheeky,” ten whines, rolling his eyes as he refills yukhei’s glass and then his own. “we’d never fight like that, honestly. my baby, what’d i do without him, huh?” he pinches yukhei’s cheek, and yeah.

friendship might be about this, too.)

⋇

yukhei starts sparing more and more thoughts to friendship and what it entails as days go by and he finds himself barely even _seeing_ mark lee anymore. 

days start becoming sourer, bitter taste on yukhei’s tongue whenever he wakes up to find mark already gone — for breakfast or for class, or for who-knows-what —, whenever he comes back from college to find no trace of the canadian in the room, every time he pretends to be asleep when mark tiptoes into the dorm well past midnight, silent as a fox, only to be gone by the time sun rises again. 

it hurts so bad that yukhei fears his heart is going to come out bleeding out of his pores, one day, with how much he misses mark in every possible meaning of the word; because he misses mark’s kisses and mark’s touches like he would water if he were lost in the desert, but more so than that, he misses his best friend.

he misses mark’s stories and mark’s advice, and the way he makes him feel at home every time he laughs at one of yukhei’s occurrences, and how talking to him feels like healing, sort of, soothing every single one of yukhei’s worries and making him see that there’s so much more to life than he sees. 

he misses mark making out of the room they share the safest place on earth, and he misses and misses until days blur into each other and the only certain thing is that he feels lonely even though he is not alone.

he misses mark, his roommate and his best friend, just as much as he misses mark lee, his first love and the person he still wants to spend forever with, and it hurts and hurts and hurts until getting out of bed becomes the hardest task yukhei could think of, and classes and people sound too much like torture for it to be worth the effort anymore.

yukhei’s aura fades, like the saddest kind of movie ending, no redemption for the fallen hero, no salvation for the sinner, no prince and no kiss to wake him up from this nightmare, and he feels himself slowly wilt and doesn’t know how to stop it.

(when he closes his eyes at night, alone in the room, the bed on the left side still unmade but never occupied, yukhei fears he’ll call out for mark in his sleep — doesn’t know how to control his thoughts anymore, and they eat him up alive, slowly, steadily, non-stop.)

yukhei’s friends notice, and more than anything, he wishes he could take all their worries away — he’s not worth it, anyways; everything is his fault, this is just what he deserves.

ten still forces him to gather with everyone, when they make plans, and gives him shelter in his room when the emptiness of his own feels like a chokehold around his throat, and he might honestly be the only thread tying yukhei to sanity these days. _“you need to make this stop, yukhei,”_ he’ll always say, and yukhei fears he doesn’t know how to. he does not think he’d find the words to say, if it came down to it — if mark wanted to talk, if he wanted to fix it. it all feels too complicated inside his chest, and so it feels easier to avoid it than to mess it up even more.

sicheng’s eyes turn sad when yukhei goes quiet, not the loud mouth he’s always been, and dejun nuzzles into his side like a cat in the more honest gesture of comfort he knows, and yukhei loves all of them so much that it brings tears to his eyes, sometimes, when the world is drowning and he can’t regain his footing, when he’s reminded of how important friendship is and yet how he managed to destroy the most beautiful one he’d ever had anyways.

jeno watches him worriedly, one day over lunch at the faculty, mark lee not sitting at their table in the cafeteria just like how he hasn’t done for weeks now, and yukhei’s stomach churns at the questions he knows are about to be thrown his way and his appetite is suddenly gone.

“hyung,” jaemin starts instead, as if he could read jeno’s mind, as if they’re two halves of a the same whole, “we’re worried about you, all of us,” he tells him, and yukhei knows he means it, and it only makes it all the worse.

“why?” yukhei answers abstimedly, like there aren’t dark bags under his eyes and like his smile hasn’t been dulled for longer than he can recall for. like he needs to hear it, to know his misery is as evident as it feels to him, taking away his breath and his strength and leaving him empty.

“you’re just… not you, lately, you know? you don’t even hang out with us anymore. we miss you,” jeno says softly, and his eyes are kind where yukhei wishes they were angry. he’s so angry at himself, why can’t everyone else just be too?

“yeah, i know,” yukhei sighs, and admitting it is defeat, it always has been. “just… i’m not doing really well these days, i’m sorry.”

“is it,” jaemin goes to ask, and yukhei’s mind supplies the rest before jeno can shoot his boyfriend a wary glance that makes him stop. 

_about mark?_ , yukhei thinks bitterly, like the answer isn’t clearer than the purest kind of water, like there’s any room for mistake. he doesn’t reply, because it does not feel like he needs to say anything for them to know, and so he pushes around the food in his plate for a moment before glancing back up at his friends.

for a moment he wonders if they’d say the same to mark, given the chance, but yukhei doesn’t even know if he goes out with them when they plan on it, these days.

“i’m fine,” yukhei smiles, after a beat, and it sounds fake even to his ears. they don’t mention it. “i’m sorry for worrying you, but really, it’s okay. i’ll feel better soon, i’m sure of it.”

he isn’t, but jeno and jaemin buy it anyway, if only out of pity, and they go back to complaining about classes and schedules and the cold season that does not seem to want to go away this year. 

yukhei watches them where they sit right across from him, and for a flashing moment, his chest feels tight with pure envy at the sight they make — jaemin’s tender gaze fixed on jeno’s lips whenever he speaks, like there’s no other thing in the world he’d ever rather hear; jeno’s gentle hands carding through jaemin’s pink hair, undoing knots and making him giggle ever so often it should be unfair. yukhei watches them, and for longer than he will ever admit, he wants what they have, wants the tenderness and the loving gazes and the safety they find in each other's hands.

yukhei wants it all with mark lee, but it is nothing new, for he’d always wanted it anyways, when he still had it, when too much could never be enough.

envy is a sin, and so is greed.

(mark’s bible is gone from his desk, and it feels like even god would’ve left yukhei’s side, if there was one.)

⋇

trying to put it into words, yukhei finds, is much harder than he’d thought it would be, but if he had to he would say that, overall, he feels lost. 

his mere existence, these days, it feels uncertain; there’s not many things in which he finds comfort, and even though being with ten and the rest of his friends is distracting and puts him out of his misery while they’re together, at the end of the day, when he’s curled up under the covers trying to fall asleep before — _if_ — mark lee comes to the room at night, insecurity gawks at the inside of his ribs and at the bottom of his throat and makes him feel like there’s no way to make it out of this hole he’s dug himself into alive.

and really, if he had to, yukhei would not really be able to explain what leads him to do what he does, because he’s got plenty of people he can talk to — the best group of friends he could’ve asked for, ten checking on him a minimum of five times a day to make sure he’s still alive and breathing and always trying to make his days a little brighter, because he’s kind like that — and he’s not feeling the most social these days.

he doesn’t know what leads him to it, but on a quiet monday afternoon in the faculty’s library, when he’s unable to string more than three words together in a sentence for one of his essays, yukhei opens up an old message thread on his phone and sends a text out of the very bottom of his heart.

**wong yukhei** — 5 minutes ago

_hey_

_i know this is probably the weirdest thing ever, so first of all, i’m really sorry for freaking you out, and you really don’t have to reply to me if you don’t wanna, i promise you i’ll understand._

_it’s just that… i dunno, it might sound selfish but i’m really going to go with honesty this time and… i’ve been thinking about many things lately, you know, cause i’ve been feeling a little lost with everything and like, introspection has always been a nice thing to do, right?_

_anyways the thing is, when we ended things we didn’t really fight or anything like that and like, we said we’d still be friends but we haven’t really ever talked again or anything and it makes me sad that you might think we cannot be friends or something like that… cause i’d really like us to talk again and be able to hang out and all that… cause yeah i’ve always thought of you very dearly and i’d like us to kind of fix that and be friends again, if you’d want to?_

yukhei holds his breath as he reads over the texts again, once they’re already sent, and he finds that it all sounds too much like he wants to fix more than his friendship with jungwoo. it makes him feel awful, and so after re-reading everything, he adds,

**wong yukhei** — 3 minutes ago

_please don’t freak out !!!! don’t think i’m doing this cause like i want us to be together again or anything i swear i mean i want us to be just friends !! for real !!!!!!_

the realization of what he’s done dawns on yukhei the moment his phone shows that jungwoo’s read the messages, and it makes his hands sweat and he buries the device under his pillow. 

it’s not long until his phone is pinging with an incoming text, and yukhei doesn’t know what sounds scarier: reading the text or dying without knowing what it says. ten’s voice resonates inside his head, then, telling him to _please stop being so dramatic, you’re gonna steal the drama-queen title from me_ , and so he retrieves his phone and swipes over the notification with his heart held tight in a fist.

**kim jungwoo** — right now

_will u ever stop being the cutest guy on earth????? seriously wtf_

_well second cutest*** doyoungie is the cutest_ (´∀｀)♡ _but!!!_

_ur all fine yukhei!!!!! we can be friends if u treat me to a nice dinner tonight after last period class hehehe see u at entrance @ building number 5 then !!!!!!_

(and it’s easy just like that, all over again; getting a friend back, after everything goes to hell.

something deep inside yukhei wishes it could be this easy, too, with mark lee. it sparks a little bit of hope, and so it helps.)

yukhei treats jungwoo to dinner at the sushi place they used to go to all the time when they were still together, and it feels a little bit weird to be there with him alone again until they sit down and jungwoo starts gushing about everything he’d wanted to tell him but never did, these past months.

“i wish you’d met doyoung properly, yukhei, really,” he says, his right hand waving his chopsticks around in circles as he speaks, “he’s so much fun! you two would get along so well.”

yukhei guesses he should feel bad, hearing his ex-boyfriend talk about his _new_ boyfriend, but jungwoo’s eyes shine as he tells yukhei about his new relationship and all he can feel is happy for him. jungwoo, yukhei realised a long time ago, despite how badly they’d wished otherwise, could have never been to him anything more than one of his dearest friends; and they were never in love, that’d been clear as glass for yukhei the second he found himself actually falling for mark lee, but they _did_ love each other — there’d been an undeniable want to protect each other, to take care of whatever fragile thing it was that they had, and looking back at it right now feels healing, sort of.

yukhei feels safe talking to jungwoo, because he’s never, ever judged him for anything, has taken care of him in ways nobody would’ve done better, and he’s always going to be grateful for this; and so the least he can do is listen to him gush about kim doyoung and wish for them to last together for a very, very long time.

“and you?” jungwoo asks, once they’ve already devoured a full plate, “have you met anyone?”

and the question is legit, for they haven’t talked in months and the older means well with his every word, but yukhei’s throat suddenly dries up and he chokes around a mouthful of rice. 

“i,” he coughs, quickly downing a glass of water before jungwoo’s worried stare, “uh, yeah, sort of. it’s… complicated, hyung,” he manages to stutter, and jungwoo lets out the softest laugh. 

“we’ve got plenty of time!” jungwoo grins, “i want to know all about it, please? i’ve already talked so much!”

the whole point of meeting with jungwoo — besides making up, of course, he’s not _that_ selfish —, yukhei tells himself, had been to try and see if a conversation with him could help to clear up the fog that’s been permanently clouding his mind for weeks on end now. and really, jungwoo deserves yukhei’s honesty more than anything in the world, after how much he’s done for him, and so he finds a way to tell him about his every worry without disclosing mark’s name and fucking everything up even more.

“there’s… there’s someone, yeah,” yukhei admits, then, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly before glancing up at jungwoo. the older’s staring at him with excited eyes and one of his cute, cute smiles, and it encourages him to keep talking, “we met and, i don’t know, after a while we started hooking up as just friends? but then of course i had to go and fall for him like an idiot and now it’s all a mess, and i don’t even think he wants to talk to me ever again, and i’m… i’m quite sad about it, you know.”

jungwoo’s expression turns into one of concern, and he reaches over to place a hand over yukhei’s, worried. yukhei hates himself for making him feel like this, but honesty is a virtue as much as greed is a sin, and so he just shrugs and gives him a smile that does not quite reach his eyes. 

“i’m sorry,” jungwoo says, then, and his eyes tell yukhei that he means it even though he’s got absolutely nothing to do with it, “really! it breaks my heart that there’s someone in the world that doesn’t know how to cherish your love. you’re like, crazy good, yukhei. i hope he realises soon.”

it sounds so nice and kind that yukhei feels undeserving of it, but jungwoo’s never been anything other than tender to him and so he accepts the words and lets them wash over his wounds like a sort of healing balm. 

“it’s fine hyung, really,” _it is not_ , “i’ll… i’ll get over it, i guess. i’m still pretty gone for him but, yeah. someday, hopefully.”

jungwoo must sense he doesn’t really want to talk about it anymore, for he gives him a nod and squeezes his hand in a silent gesture of support. he leans back on his chair, then, grabbing the bottle of sake they ordered and pouring them both a glass before asking the question that will break havoc inside yukhei’s chest,

“hey,” jungwoo says, after watching yukhei down his glass and following suit, “did anything happen between you and mark?” and yukhei is surprised, but there is no room for him to try and divert the topic from where it’s headed towards because jungwoo keeps talking, “because he’s been spending a lot of time at our dorm, with taeyong hyung. like, i think he’s even been sleeping there some nights and, i don’t know. i thought it was weird, that suddenly you two weren’t going together everywhere.”

yukhei does not know how to make it out of this question without burning himself alive in the way, and the knowledge that mark might not be avoiding him to keep going with his life but rather to spend time with taeyong — his safe place besides johnny, just like ten is yukhei’s — makes his fingertips tingle and breathing hard. 

“uhm,” he mumbles, not daring to look up at jungwoo, “uh, we, uh. i don’t… we didn’t fight or anything, uh, just… i’m not sure.”

if yukhei’d looked up, he would’ve caught the shadow of realisation dawning on jungwoo’s face, but he didn’t and so the next thing he knows is that the older is changing the topic, as if sensing his discomfort.

(the night ends up just nicely enough — yukhei walks jungwoo to his dorm but does not go up with him to his room like he used to, and they part with jungwoo leaving a soft kiss on his cheek and a pat on his head. 

“take care of yourself,” jungwoo says gently, smile reaching his eyes. “and text me when you get home and all that.”

“hyung,” yukhei laughs, “i live across the street!”

jungwoo grins, shrugs his shoulders and looks at him one last time before he goes. 

“just text me! let’s be friends,” he grins, and just like that he’s gone.

yukhei watches him go, and it feels nice and warm inside his chest — that jungwoo is good to him like this, that he’s fixed up at least one of his mistakes.

he glances briefly up at what he knows is taeyong’s window before he leaves, and his brain makes up the shadow of mark’s silhouette watching him from the sill.)

⋇

johnny suh comes knocking on his door one thursday night and yukhei’s heart plummets into his stomach at the sight. 

johnny’s height matches yukhei’s, but standing before him on the other side of the doorframe, yukhei feels himself the smallest being in the whole entire universe. he’s briefly reminded of lions and their preys, and of how intimidating johnny looked for the first minute after he met him at the start of first year, and for a moment yukhei is tempted to smash the door closed and lock himself inside the room forever to never come out again. 

johnny smiles, then, and it’s warm and not predatory, and it eases yukhei’s nerves the littlest bit. 

“yukhei, man,” johnny says, a chirpy undertone in his voice that resonates in yukhei’s brain and tells him he’s not in trouble. not yet, at least, “sorry for startling you! were you sleeping or something?”

“uh,” yukhei hesitates, looking back around the room as if those four walls held the answers to every single mystery in the universe. they don’t, sadly, and so he turns back to johnny with an awkward smile, “no, i was… awake. hyung.” 

johnny laughs, then, and smacks yukhei’s arm gently — a giant teddy bear, yukhei remembers thinking when they first met. 

“oh dude, don’t be so awkward! i just wanted to ask you if you wanted to have dinner with me? yuta’s gone tonight, and i was thinking about making ramen and i remember you saying you liked my style so…”

johnny suh is asking him to have ramen with him for dinner. yukhei’s head hurts.

“i,” yukhei hopes his mouth isn’t gaping — he feels a little out of control of his body, right now, “i, yeah, sure, if it’s okay? like. if you want to?”

johnny watches him with mischievous eyes and a wide grin, clapping his hands together in delight at his answer.

“great! grab your stuff and come round whenever you want, then. i’ve got plenty of beer,” johnny says in lieu of goodbye, and with that he’s walking back to his own room. 

yukhei stares at the empty hallway for a long while after he’s gone, mind running a mile an hour as he tries to grasp what just happened. he sends ten a text asking if he’s got anything to do with it, and he only gets a _‘wtffff his ramen was really good i’m gonna cry, save some for me!!!’_ in return.

yukhei thinks, when he’s already halfway through his second bowl of ramen, that many years down the road from now he’ll still remember every corner of johnny suh’s room exactly how it is right now — exactly how it looked the day he met mark lee, the most remarkable moment in yukhei’s early-adult life.

sitting on the floor across from him, back against the bottom of yuta’s bed, johnny is nursing on a beer as he watches yukhei eat, an amused glint in his eyes that yukhei does not really know how to interpret.

“it’s really good, hyung,” yukhei tells him, when he finishes drinking the broth, “thank you so much for the food, really.”

“ah, don’t thank me, really! it’s nothing,” johnny laughs, and he makes a little dismissing gesture with his free hand, shaking his head. “i missed hanging out with you, you know. you haven’t come round here in a while.”

yukhei freezes, and then tries to push the uneasiness away so he does not look like the asshole he’s been feeling like, lately. johnny seems not to notice, for he cracks him open a beer and hands it to him with a smile. yukhei drinks half of it down in a gulp.

“yeah, i know… i’ve been hanging out with ten and sicheng and the others a lot lately,” yukhei replies, then, scratching at his head awkwardly. johnny surely _must_ know that there’s something going on between mark and yukhei, for he’s the person mark trusts the most in this planet, and so he adds, just because he can, a little, “i’m sorry, hyung.”

“what? no, don’t be! that’s all fine,” johnny says gently, and his eyes are honest as he does so, “dude, i haven’t talked to sicheng in ages, how’s he doing?”

“oh, he’s fine,” yukhei smiles. he loves talking about his friends, so as long as johnny keeps the topic away from mark lee, the conversation will flow nicely, “he’s great, yeah. i love him a lot.”

“i’m glad to hear so! dude, he used to spend forever here, with ten and yuta and i,” it sounds kind of nostalgic, coming from johnny’s mouth, and so yukhei listens attentively. “but then he and yuta fell out and, yeah. things happen, you know.”

“i don’t,” yukhei starts, and he doesn’t think it’s the right thing to say, but he’s already finished his beer can and he’s never really had a high tolerance anyways, and so he cannot bring himself to an stop before he speaks, “i don’t really know what happened to them, you know. sicheng’s never told me.”

“damn, really?” johnny’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and yukhei laughs softly. “dude! i guess i _could_ tell you, it’s been a couple years now since it happened anyways. just, don’t tell them i told you, hm?”

yukhei can see, clear as a summer day, why mark lee sees a brother in johnny. he’s open and kind and protective in a way that makes him feel at ease, and for a long while his heart aches at the realisation that he’d lost this, too, when he lost mark — he’d lost the way johnny makes him laugh and the way johnny makes sure he knows everything there is to know for yukhei to take and build his happiness from it, and it digs another crack in his already broken heart.

“i promise you i won’t say a thing, hyung,” yukhei says, and so johnny starts.

“those two… they were cute together, you know? they clicked from the very first moment they met, and suddenly there was no yuta without sicheng, and no sicheng without yuta, and we all just kind of accepted it because it was what made them happy,” johnny’s words echo of something familiar inside yukhei’s chest, and he cannot tear his eyes away from him as he speaks. “and then one day they started hooking up and, you know, no one was really surprised? taeyong and i had actually made bets on when it would happen, cause yuta was so _obvious_ , man, and there’s just so much sicheng could resist,” yukhei feels like he shouldn’t be hearing this, for he sees himself in johnny’s words and doesn’t like it one bit. “and for a while it was all right, but then yuta told him he wanted them to… be official, sort of, and sicheng said he didn’t feel that way and that was the end. yuta was devastated for a while, but you know how he is, he got over it soon enough. i’m still kinda sad about it, though. sicheng is such a nice boy, he would’ve been good for him.”

yukhei thinks of a surgeon’s table, and bodies being cut open and examined under bright lights, for he’s never felt quite as exposed as he does right now. his tongue feels heavy inside his mouth, cotton making its way down his throat and making it hard to swallow, and his too wide eyes must give away every single thing he is feeling because johnny’s gaze turns a little bit kinder when he looks right back to him.

“oh,” yukhei pushes himself to say, because it’s suddenly too quiet inside the room, “i… didn’t know. it’s, uhm. yeah. sad.”

johnny watches him in silence for a few beats, as if his eyes were just like ten’s — able to see right through him and read every single thought going through his brain —, and yukhei looks down at his empty can and wishes for it to magically refill so he could at least distract himself with drinking. 

“you know, yukhei,” johnny says, in the end, and his voice is a bit quieter, like he doesn’t want yukhei to suddenly run away, “i think life is about choices. we’re always making decisions, don’t you think?”

yukhei doesn’t know where he is going with this, but his heart rate spikes up at the thought that johnny _might_ know something; that he could, perhaps, have the key for yukhei to glue back together the pieces of his broken heart. he thinks of mark lee telling him that his johnny hyung is _everything_ to him, that there’s no one who’s ever helped him as much as him, and it makes it all ever the stranger and yukhei can only nod as he watches the older lean forward to rest his elbows on his own knees.

“our heads are always full of questions, and we’re kind of programmed to believe that those questions can only have _one_ correct answer,” johnny goes on, hand waving around the space between him and yukhei, “but what if that wasn’t it? what if the outcomes weren’t already decided, what if we had a chance to make _all_ the answers correct?”

“hyung,” yukhei chuckles, then, a nervous reflex because he does not really know what to do, “what do you mean with all this?”

“what i mean is,” johnny sighs, pushing back his hair and tilting his head to the right as he stares right back at yukhei, “that in this life that we have, we have to be brave, yukhei. things might happen and they might lead you to believe that things _have_ to end in some sort of pre-defined way, but it’s not like that. it doesn’t have to be like that,” yukhei’s heart aches. the bottom of his throat feels tight, and he fears he’ll run out of oxygen to breathe. “you’re already really brave, you know? you feel things in such a transparent way that there’s no room for someone not to see just how good of a guy you are. hell, i knew the moment i saw you that you’d be great, dude, but still. sometimes things are better said out loud than kept inside.”

“thanks,” yukhei chokes out, his mind too busy trying to process everything for him to say anything else. “i, uhm. thank you, hyung.”

“oh lord, don’t thank me,” johnny laughs softly, then, and he relaxes the tight set of his jaw and suddenly the atmosphere shifts towards a less serious tone. “just… give it all a thought, yeah? you’re braver than you believe yourself to be, and there are more possible answers to your questions than you’d believe. it’s all about choices, yukhei.”

(when yukhei gets into bed a couple hours after his conversation with johnny suh, brain pleasantly buzzing with the second beer he downed and the easy laughs the elder pulled from his chest, he stares at the darkness surrounding every corner of his room and tries to dissect every possible connotation behind johnny’s words. 

he thinks of sicheng not feeling the same yuta felt back then, and of choices and correct answers, and then he thinks of mark lee’s longing, starry eyes and of his soft, tender lips and his chest feels tight with a newfound kind of hope he does not really want to indulge himself in tonight.

but the feeling is there, because johnny must have told him about it for a reason, and so yukhei turns his words around in his head over and over again until he’s able to pull out clean the intention behind them, the point the older must’ve wanted to make.

yukhei thinks of chances and choices, and then he thinks about bravery and endless possibilities of fixing what he’s for long now believed to be inevitably broken, and he buries his face in his pillow and forces himself to count sheep to sleep to avoid thinking any further.

he thinks of mark lee’s laugh, at last, of his stories and his trust, and of his gaze when he’d cuddle up against yukhei’s chest, like he could make a home out of his heart.

love might as well be about allowing yourself to be vulnerable, too.)

⋇

the music is playing so loud that the club walls seem to shake with the force of the bass, sweaty bodies pressed against each other as they move in the dancefloor, and yukhei wishes he could be in his bed and not here right now. 

a grimace pulls at yukhei’s face as he tries to make his way towards the bar, already two drinks in and feeling absolutely much less drunk than he would like to be, way lonelier than someone who’s out with his friends should feel. he lost ten a few minutes after they made their way together from the dorms into the cramped place, and if experience is anything to go by, he knows that he will probably not see the elder again in a long, long time. 

it’s been a long while since he agreed to go out with the guys, but midterms are finally over and dejun gave him the puppy eyes and really, yukhei’s always been weak for cutesy things. kun is not with them tonight, though, and it makes it all feel a little bit off, because they’re so used to going everywhere together that even just one of them missing makes yukhei feel a little bit miserable. 

it’s their usual club, the small space yukhei knows by now better than the palm of his own hand, but he can’t see sicheng anywhere and he’s starting to feel a little uncomfortable at the lack of known faces around him. a shorter guy pushes past him, then, and yukhei wonders, briefly, just for how long he can put it off before he decides to head back home early tonight.

when he finally makes it to the bar, yukhei orders himself another rum and coke, _make it double, please_ , and he turns to fish out the last bill he’s got tucked into the front pocket of his skinny jeans. the bartender starts chatting him up as she hands him back his change, a tiny, blonde girl that is absolutely yukhei’s type and definitely not the someone he would like to kiss tonight, and the first sip of his drink tastes sour on his tongue. 

it’s the first time yukhei’s going out after the night he saw mark lee making out with a girl; when the world came crashing down on him all at once, when it started to feel like everything was lost to him, and it feels like yukhei’s reached a milestone on a road he didn’t know he was headed down to, returning to the place where it all started and sort-of ended, too. 

tonight feels kind of sad, with the knowledge that he probably won’t get to touch or talk or even see mark lee, but yukhei promised ten he’d try to have a good time, and so he grabs his glass and gets ready to start looking for his friends again.

he is about to pull out his phone to see if he’s got any texts from anyone, but suddenly there are hands tugging on his arm and pulling him away from the bar. yukhei manages to grip his drink at the last second, heart racing at the sudden move, before he turns to face a very panicked dejun clinging to his arm.

“you need to come outside right now,” dejun says nervously, already pulling on yukhei’s arm again to lead him towards the exit. 

“what?” yukhei’s mouth gapes as he looks at his friend, eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. “what’s wrong? man, it’s cold outside!”

“it’s mark,” dejun says loudly, so it doesn’t get lost in the frenzy of the club. 

yukhei thinks he would’ve heard him clearly even if they’d been whispered into his ear.

the words feel like a rock dropping into the bottom of yukhei’s stomach, heavy and unsettling and the perfect catalyst for a rush of adrenaline, and he’s suddenly rushing outside with long steps, any traces of tipsiness erased as anxiety climbs up his spine.

when they make it outside, there are cars filling the road and several groups of people just hanging there — smoking, sucking face, trading substances yukhei wants to know nothing about. he doesn’t know what’s going on, but his eyes are wild as he looks for mark, tries to pick out his messy hair from the mass of people standing around. 

“here,” dejun urges him with another pull on his arm, walking him towards the end of the street, where it turns into a narrow alley.

from the back, yukhei can see mark lee sitting on the pavement — elbows pressed against his bent knees, head hanging low between them —, and the worry tying a knot around the base of yukhei’s stomach numbs the realisation that it’s the first time he’s actually _seeing_ mark in more than a month, apart from the shadow that gets into his bed late at night sometimes. 

kunhang is crouching next to him, a protective hand resting on the back of mark’s neck as he glances around anxiously, probably waiting for him and dejun to arrive. there’s a bottle of water on his other hand, yukhei sees as he rushes towards them, but doesn’t even bother to ask about it as he kneels in front of mark, eyes wild with worry.

“mark,” yukhei calls out, and his voice cracks as nerves wrap themselves tight around his throat and make it hard to swallow. “markie, hey, what’s wrong? can you hear me?”

mark doesn’t voice a reply, but he tries to glance up at yukhei, and a harsh shiver racks down his body as he does so. under the dim lights of the late night, he looks sickly pale, and yukhei reaches over to gently hold onto the boy’s arms, eyes glancing up at kunhang. 

“i think he’s crossed,” kunhang mumbles, now standing behind yukhei and tapping his foot against the ground. “he reeks of weed. he probably smoked something while drinking, he was throwing up when i found him.”

yukhei frowns, because the mark lee he knows would never, _ever_ smoke _anything_. he pushes away the demon in his shoulder telling him _you don’t know him anymore_ , because he refuses to believe for a second that his mark would change into someone else this fast. 

his eyes remain fixed on mark as he moves a hand to push his hair away from the boy’s eyes, a futile attempt at trying to get him to focus. kunhang hands him the water bottle, then, and yukhei presses it to mark’s lips gently, urging him to take a sip. he does, and then he’s lurching forward and spitting onto the ground the few contents that remained in his stomach; harsh, wet coughs pulling at his lips before he starts outright sobbing. 

and yukhei is mad, because none of this makes sense — that mark lee is right here in front of him, after everything, and despite how many things he wants to tell him and how many times he’s dreamed of getting to hear mark’s voice directed at him again, right now all yukhei wants to do is _scream_ —

he wants to scream at mark for being an idiot and doing this to himself, for leaving his side and getting himself into whatever situation that’s led him to this, but yukhei’s heart absolutely _breaks_ at the scene before him, and he doesn’t care if he gets dirty with mark’s vomit when he reaches over to gently wipe at his cheeks. 

mark’s eyes close tightly for a few seconds before he glances up at yukhei, lost and vulnerable, and breathing suddenly becomes hard. 

dejun appears again with another water bottle, and kunhang empties it against the back of mark’s neck in an attempt to pull him out of his trance while yukhei stands to pace around nervously, debating himself on what to do. 

“i’m gonna call johnny,” he ends up stating, already reaching for his phone in his back pocket. 

but mark’s hand is suddenly shooting up towards him, like a sword swinging around thin air; wide, frantic eyes raking over yukhei’s form as he shakes his head violently, hair flopping wildly as he does so. 

“please don’t,” he cries out, voice rough before he coughs again, chest heaving with the effort. “don’t tell him, please don’t tell him, yukhei, please, _please_.”

and really, yukhei should call johnny _and_ taeyong and let them take care of mark the way they always have, like they are his older brothers and he is their ultimate responsibility, because he is angry and scared and, above all, he doesn’t want anything to happen to mark. but mark is staring at him like he will die if yukhei does it, and so he heaves out a sigh and nods his head, crouching in front of him once again and pushing mark’s hair back with all the gentleness in the world, bottom lip trapped tightly between sharp teeth. 

“let’s go home,” he says in the end, turning around so his back is facing mark. “can you hold onto my shoulders?”

he manages to do so with kunhang and dejun’s help, and then yukhei is standing up and holding onto mark’s legs so he won’t slide down. his friends offer to walk back with them, and yukhei is too scared of anything happening to mark for him to decline the offer. 

the dorm is not that far of a walk from the club, but mark’s deadweight on his back and the creeping sense of worry making turmoil inside yukhei make it feel like an eternity. still, they arrive safely, and mark’s asleep by the time they do so. kunhang and dejun wave goodbye when yukhei opens the door to his and mark’s room, telling him to keep them updated on mark’s state, and then they’re finally alone. 

yukhei deposits mark on top of his always unmade bed as gently as he can, and the smaller boy clings to him tightly for the longest seconds of yukhei’s life before he grunts and curls into himself upon being laid on the mattress, and it feels too much like getting his heart wrenched out of his chest and stomped upon by the wildest of horses. 

undressing mark in his almost unconscious state turns out to be far more difficult than yukhei had believed it to be. still, he manages to take off his clothes until he’s just in his boxer briefs, and then throws one of his own ratty tshirts over his slim frame so he doesn’t get cold during the night, and he swallows the feelings wrecking havoc inside his chest at the sight he makes just like this. 

when mark’s finally tucked into his messy bed, laid on his side so he won’t choke if he gets sick again, yukhei allows himself to take a quick shower to wash off the sweat and the grime from his skin, chest thumping with the adrenaline now leaving his veins.

yukhei gets into his own bed, after turning off the lights and making sure mark is breathing, and as he closes his eyes he thinks of mark’s vulnerable gaze and his tight grip on his shoulders, and has to curl into a ball facing the opposite wall to stop himself from crying out loud into the open of the room. 

⋇

yukhei’s been awake for an hour and a half by the time mark lee opens his eyes. he lets out a long, shaky groan as he tries to hide his face from the light making way into the room through the blinds, a harsh headache suddenly pounding at his temples, and yukhei only doubts for a flashing second if he should throw away the plan he made while he watched mark sleep and run away once again.

he decides against it, in the end, because johnny suh told him life is about choices and being brave; and yukhei might be many, many things, but he cares for mark lee more than he’s ever cared about anyone ever in his life, and so he will make sure the boy can at least know that before it’s too late.

“hey,” yukhei says, then, and the walls of their room have become so used to the static sound of silence that the words seem loud enough to crack them open and tear them down. 

mark’s face had regained its normal appearance during the night, but at the sound of his voice yukhei could swear it drains of color once again, like he’d believed yukhei to be the last person on earth he would have to face today. 

it aches. everything does, these days, and so he forces himself past it.

“yukhei,” mark squeaks, turning so he’s laying on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling like yukhei will steal his soul if he looks back at him. “dude, hey. long time no see.”

yukhei’s mouth tastes like the awfullest combination of sour and bitter no matter how many times he washes his teeth, for it has nothing to do with hygiene but rather with the pain flourishing non-stop in his chest. mark’s voice is a little strained, awkwardness dripping from his every word, but it still sounds familiar and soothing in a way yukhei should hate. he hates that he doesn’t. 

yukhei scowls, and really, he’s never been one for confrontation, but today calls for a sort of intervention he’s ready to deliver. 

“we saw each other, last night,” yukhei says, serious, and mark’s turns his face towards him so fast he’s scared he’d broken his neck, “when you were throwing up on kunhang’s shoes, high off your ass.”

mark’s cheeks flush red, and something in yukhei aches for him to lean across the space between their beds so he can feel them under his fingertips, but anger and worry weigh more than desire sometimes, and so he doesn’t.

“i,” mark stutters, eyes raking around the room as if he’ll find the words to say hidden in some corner, “i’m, i don’t… i don’t remember,” he says at last, and well. yukhei didn’t expect him to. 

“i figured,” yukhei sighs, rolling back his right shoulder where he sits on his own bed, legs crossed as he stares at mark. it feels kind of unreal, to be talking to him after so long, and _oh_ , how he wishes things didn’t have to be like this. “dude, seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? you don’t even do weed, what were you thinking about?”

for a moment, yukhei thinks mark is going to walk out of the room, covers wrapped around himself still and everything, and maybe that would hurt less than the look pulling at his factions when he hears yukhei’s words. 

“fuck off,” mark says, jaw set as he sits up, and it feels like they’re finally having a conversation, after weeks, “i can do whatever the hell i want, and you don’t fucking get to tell me what i _do_ or _don’t_ do, man. i’m not a kid, for fucks sake.”

“well, you surely do act like one,” yukhei shoots back, like it’s rapid fire, like war is at stake in this very own battle, “ _i_ was the one carrying you home when you fucking passed out, getting you into your bed and making sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit while you slept, so i guess i fucking _get_ to tell you to stop being stupid!”

“i didn’t ask you to do that!” mark’s voice is growing a little desperate, and he pauses for a moment to press his fingers into his temples, teeth gritting in pain. something tugs into yukhei’s chest at the sight, and he deflates, because he’ll always be weak for mark lee. “look, i’m sorry, alright? i was recording a track with this one guy, and then he offered me a drink and we ended up smoking at the back of the club and i just… i guess it didn’t sit well with my body.”

the room stays silent, then, for a moment after mark speaks, while yukhei processes the words. he first thinks of whoever mark was with, about tearing him down to shreds for putting him at such risk, and then he thinks of mark, vulnerable under the influence with someone he probably doesn’t even know, and he feels sick.

“mark, dude, c’mon,” yukhei says, then, a little choked up. “don’t do that kind of stuff to yourself ever again. that’s dangerous, you could’ve… i don’t know, but man. i was so fucking worried about you, you have no idea.”

mark lee doesn’t say anything, after yukhei talks, but his eyes have always spoken the words his lips have never dared to say. he looks across the room, to where a picture of him climbing on yukhei’s back is stuck to the wall, and his face shifts from tiredness and confusion towards a warmer, fonder kind of look — like it all isn’t lost, like there’s still room for yukhei to build a bridge to reach him without the river swallowing him whole. 

he leaves the room like that — in silence, yukhei’s shirt hanging off his frame and no more words to say, but for once it doesn’t feel like goodbye; it’s kind of a greeting, really, because they’ve finally acknowledged each other’s existence after the longest time, and to yukhei, god. 

to yukhei it feels majestic, like the start of something, the first clean bandaid over a nasty cut. and he is so in love with mark lee that he feels giddy with it — talking to him, existing in the same plane as him, it all feels like a reaching the purgatory, after a tour around hell —, and the strain of last night feels worth it, with how he’s finally had a taste of him after so long.

(“i miss you,” yukhei says, when mark’s already slammed the door shut just like he always does, and he hopes he won’t hear it, for it is a truth too big to be told like this. 

with his back pressed against the wood from the outside, heart beating fast against the hand he’s got pressed to his chest, mark still does.)

⋇

three days go by, in which yukhei does not see or hear from mark lee again, and the balloon of hope that’d started to grow inside his chest is deflating way faster than he would’ve liked it to. 

sicheng elbows him on the ribs lightly when yukhei starts to get lost in his thoughts for the fifth time tonight, loud music making it too easy to drown words, and yukhei forces himself to plaster a smile on his face as dejun returns with drinks for everyone.

it is yet another night at the club, because midterm season being finished definitely requires everyone to go out and celebrate until their pockets are empty and their heads are unable to stand another hangover, and ten would never allow any of them to skip on a party like this because _we deserve to have our fun!_ , or so he says.

none of them has seen ten, though, in what feels like forever, and at least yukhei can recognize the familiarity in that — he’s always moving from one side of the place to the other, chatting with everyone and getting himself involved with every beautiful, available guy he encounters, and for that yukhei feels a little jealous, because he too would like to get to kiss someone tonight. 

someone with stars in his eyes, and pointy teeth and loud laugh; evident messy habits, and a personality to match the force of a hurricane — devastating, inevitable, definitive. yeah, he would like to kiss him, tonight.

not for the first time in the past fifteen minutes, yukhei looks around the mass of people to see if he can make out the shape of anyone he recognises apart from his friend group, just to see if mark’s friends have, mayhaps, dragged him with them too. and really, yukhei should probably not be wishing for that, because the last time he saw mark at the club had been kind of the worst night of his life, but things feel different now, somehow, despite the situation not having _changed_ one bit after their last conversation — because mark still does not come to the room at all, and he still doesn’t talk to yukhei, but the hope is still there; minimal, but there, awaiting to be unleashed, for the perfect opportunity to strike.

jaemin waves at yukhei excitedly from the other side of the club, then, and it makes him chuckle fondly. 

“hey, i’m gonna go say hi to the kids,” yukhei announces, and then he’s making his way over to where they all are probably hanging together.

he doesn’t reach his destination, though, because when he’s already halfway through the dancefloor, yukhei comes across a scene that could’ve very well have been taken out of a horror movie designed specifically for him. 

against the far wall of the club, ten is talking to mark with vivid gestures of his hands, and the sight makes yukhei’s blood run cold. 

ten and mark, as far as yukhei knows, do _not_ talk to each other, and so it can only mean one thing — that ten is telling him about everything yukhei’s been going through, and suddenly yukhei feels sick with the dawning realisation that he’s no longer safe under the disguise of the unknown. 

he needs to run away, and he needs to do it _now_.

“yukhei!” someone calls from behind him, then, but his ears are ringing with panic and so he doesn’t turn around. “yukhei, i need your help!”

that seems to snap him out of his haze, and he turns around to find jungwoo quickly approaching him, face pulled into a worried grimace. 

“hyung,” yukhei breathes, eyes wide as he tries to get his body to function, “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

“you need to help me, please, it’s really urgent,” jungwoo says, and his eyes look teary. yukhei fears he’s going to have an aneurism — his heart can only take so much in one minute.

yukhei gives jungwoo a curt nod of his head, because helping him is way more important than running away and hiding himself from every single person he knows until everyone forgets about his existence; and so he lets jungwoo lead him by the wrist away from the dancefloor and in the general direction of the bathrooms, and he mentally prepares himself to have to either call an ambulance or beat someone up.

“jungwoo, hyung, what’s wrong?” yukhei asks worriedly as they stop walking right in front of the men’s restroom door.

“yukhei,” jungwoo sniffles, and yukhei’s throat feels tight enough to suffocate. “i’m sorry.”

“what?” yukhei asks, confusion cinching at his eyebrows and nerves tickling the bottom of his stomach, and then chaos explodes right in front of his eyes so fast that he does not really know _what_ is happening. 

first, there are strong arms wrapping around his middle and pulling him into the bathroom, and yukhei’s so shocked that he does not really know who or what or _if_ he should fight back. johnny suh is running out of the door, then, and the distinct sound of the door being locked from the outside resonates into the small space. already in overdrive, yukhei’s brain wonders if he’s about to get killed right now.

“uhm,” someone says from behind him, and yukhei’s eyes are panicked as he turns around to see mark lee standing right in front of the sink. “wow, i, dude. these guys are fucking nuts.”

“what,” yukhei manages to say, voice shaky because he still doesn’t know what he should focus on — if jungwoo had really been in trouble, if he’s going to die, if, _oh_. if ten told mark lee every single one of his deepest secrets. he’s a little overwhelmed. “what’s going on?”

“dude, as if i know!” mark laughs, and it’s a little hysterical. he cannot be blamed; yukhei fears he’s driven himself crazy, really, with how surreal it feels to have mark lee standing a metre away from him in the grimy bathroom of this goddamn club. 

and honestly, yukhei might be a little biased, but mark looks just as straight out of one of his dreams as he’s always done, so ethereally beautiful that it’s kind of hard for him to assimilate that they’re apparently _locked together_ in there until someone decides to come free them — which will probably not happen any time soon, if knowing their friends is anything to go by.

“what,” yukhei starts again, because worry is threatening to eat him alive, “what did ten tell you?”

mark looks at him for three long seconds before he understands what yukhei is talking about, and he laughs nervously again as he shakes his head. 

“he just told me to come here because taeyong didn’t feel well and johnny needed my help,” he says, and it washes away yukhei’s fear in one go, like the tide against white sand, giving place to a new canvas for him to work on. “i guess they all planned it, huh?”

“yeah,” yukhei chuckles, albeit a bit breathlessly, leaning his shoulder against the wall to ease off the awkwardness of the situation. “jungwoo was pretending to cry when he dragged me here, so. yeah.”

“oh wow,” mark comments, and it’s silent after that, once again. 

(“why did you do that?” yukhei will ask, weeks from now, when it all sounds more like a movie scene than any other thing. 

“because i love you,” jungwoo chuckles, as if it’s obvious, as if it explains everything, “and you deserve to be happy, yukhei, just as much as mark does. it’s the least i could do for you.”

and yukhei will want to tell him that there was no need for him to do any more for him that he’s already done, because who knows where he would be without jungwoo, but thankfulness will close around his throat and so the hug they share will have to serve as enough of a proof of how grateful yukhei is, for having found someone quite like him when he needed it the most.)

yukhei allows himself, then, to finally _look_ at mark. he’s still the same he’s always been, the boy who’s slept next to yukhei for almost two years now, who became his best friend, and then something more — his lover, yukhei would say, if it had been reciprocal, if he hadn’t been deluded —; but seeing him like this, under the white light of the club’s bathroom after weeks of the avoidance that’s hurt him so much, kind of feels like a privilege. 

yukhei wants to keep seeing him forever, even if it hurts, even if he’s not his.

“i,” mark says, then, when silence has stretched itself thin between them and words are needed to fill the empty spaces, “i wanted to say thank you, for, you know. helping me the other night and all that. you didn’t… you didn’t have to do it, after what i’ve done to you and, yeah. it’s… thanks. really.”

mark lee, yukhei thinks as he listens, is such a bad actor. any other time, he would’ve told him so — maybe even started a tickle fight to make up for the words, to end up kissing him stupid until they forgot about it —, but right now it makes yukhei’s heart clench inside his chest so painfully that he fears he’s going to die without getting to tell him everything he’s kept silent all this time. there’s so much hidden behind his words, and yukhei aches to hear it as much as he fears the outcome.

“please don’t,” yukhei says, and he means it, because there’s never been a necessity for thanking each other between them, and he doesn’t want that to change now. “you know i would’ve done it any other time just the same. you’re still you to me, mark, even if… i don’t know, even if you don’t want to be friends anymore or whatever.”

the words are hot on his tongue, and yukhei burns with them. _i don’t wanna be your friend_ , he thinks bitterly, _please just be mine_.

“that’s not it, oh my god, please,” mark rushes to say, eyes wide as he looks at yukhei’s face, a desperate cry for him to understand what his words don’t tell, “yukhei, yukhei i just. it’s so complicated, fuck, and i. i wanna fix it, i wanna fix it all but it’s so _hard_.”

mark’s eyes tell the stories his lips don’t, and yukhei’s always been weak. _brave_ , johnny’s voice corrects him inside his head, _you’re so brave, yukhei, some things are better off said out loud_ , and then he’s crossing whatever little space there is between them and wrapping his arms around mark’s shoulders in the hug he’s been needing for longer than he’d like to recognise right now.

mark lee starts crying, then, and it feels like both the apocalypse and the genesis, the end and the start, and it’s all a little too much. the dam’s been broken, and so yukhei cries, too, because it’s what he does best these days.

“you’re fine, markie, hey,” yukhei tries to comfort him, and it sounds silly in his stupid cracked voice. “it’s okay, i’m here, i’m not going anywhere.”

“i still wanna tell you,” mark sobs, and a thousand daggers going through yukhei’s heart would hurt less than this. “you don’t deserve what i’ve done, yukhei, you are- you are my best friend, and the best guy i’ve ever met, and fuck. i like you so much it should be fucking illegal.”

there are certain moments in life, yukhei knows, in which the world seems to stop turning. the earth shifted on its axis when he met mark lee, and the moon moved closer to them when they first kissed, a greedy witness to the love that threatened to wilt yukhei’s heart down until there was nothing left in his chest, but tonight. mark’s lips form the words, _i like you_ , like it’s nothing — like yukhei’s universe doesn’t come crashing down because of them, like he doesn’t hold every single thread tying his broken parts together right now —, and it is _explosive_.

“mark,” yukhei calls out, like they’re miles away and not pressed against each other; mark’s face buried in his shoulder, wetting his shirt with tears and snot. “mark, you need to say that again.”

“oh my god,” mark cries, and then he’s pulling away like yukhei burns. “i like you! i like you, yukhei, even though i should not, because you are my friend and i’m a guy and i should not like _you_ ,” he tries to explain, hands flopping around wildly, and yukhei’s chest aches. “and i knew it was wrong but i couldn’t stop it, i _can’t stop it_ and i thought i’d be able to if i pushed you away but i’m not! and taeyong hyung said it does not have to be just black or white and that there’s worse things i could do, and that being happy could never be a bad thing but it all doesn’t make a sense at all and i feel like i’m going insane.”

mark’s chest heaves as he tries to regulate his breathing when he’s done talking, face red and blotchy and hair a little bit disheveled, and yukhei’s lungs feel too big for his ribcage and he fears he will explode.

looking back at it from where he stands — with mark lee’s heart out and beating right in the palm of his hand, like davy jones and this one old pirate tale —, yukhei sees that he should’ve probably guessed that this was the direction in which things were going, when mark suddenly decided to disappear from his arms and his life. he thinks of his bible, and his strict parents back home and the stricter morals he grew up encased upon, and then he thinks of his lips touching every crevice of mark’s body and everything makes sense, clear as a day.

he thinks of mark lee craving freedom, and then he remembers him getting a taste of it with yukhei and being scared of growing addicted to the feeling, when he’d always been told it was wrong, when he’d believed himself a sinner. 

but oh, how could it be a sin, for someone so beautiful inside and out to find a little piece of heaven on earth?

“oh markie,” yukhei says, then, and there’s no pity in his tone but kindness, all of it just for the boy who’s taught him what love feels like in the chest, what it tastes like on the tongue — sweet and pink, fresh like the summer breeze, warm like the spring sun, “of course it’s not a bad thing, baby. we’re already forgiven, aren’t we? there’s no need to live in fear. fear is for the cowards, but you- you are brave, mark lee, and there’s just so much you deserve.”

“how can you know that,” mark sighs, like his barriers are crumbling, like he’s losing the war. nothing further from the truth, for he’s had it won since the very start; yukhei was always his, there was never nothing to lose. “how can you say i’m brave, after what i’ve done.”

“because you’re here,” yukhei says simply, taking a step closer to him. mark does not move, and so he takes another. “you could’ve called johnny and we’d already be out of here, but you’re here talking to me and telling me you think you don’t deserve to be happy, when you and i know damn well you do, when you know there’s nothing in this world i wouldn’t do for you.”

mark looks down, then, and yukhei thinks of choices and chances. he reaches over to tilt up his chin gently, no force in his grip, enough room for him to flee. mark doesn’t.

“i’m going to kiss you right now, if it’s fine,” yukhei says, just for mark to listen, just for him to deny.

“god, please,” mark says instead, and yukhei takes one last, long look at him before bringing their lips together in what he’s been aching to do for too long now.

no fireworks go off in the background, no romantic music plays in stereo, no one claps in delight; because there’s no one but them in this place, locked away from curious eyes and judging glances; only them, mark and yukhei and their hearts, beating so fast that it sounds louder than any song, and so yukhei kisses him and kisses him until he runs out of breath.

mark’s lips taste of him and just him and yukhei feels it all multiplied tenfold now, heart bursting at the seams, chest dripping with the pride and the knowledge.

he loves mark lee, and it’s the bravest thing he’s ever done.

⋇

mark and yukhei have always told each other everything — their deepest worries, their most embarrassing anecdotes, the family stories that have shaped them into what they were before knowing each other and building their own home away from the start —, but they’ve _never_ talked about what they have going on with each other.

laying down in his bed in the room they share, with his arms wrapped around mark lee as he snuggles into his chest, yukhei does not think that they’re gonna start doing it now. it already feels precious to him, to have been able to see past mark’s barriers last night, when he crumbled and showed yukhei all his fears like there was no harm to be done, like there’s no one he’ll ever trust as much as him. 

mark lee grunts softly against the conjunction between yukhei’s shoulder and his neck, breathes out warmly against his skin and raises goosebumps all the way down his body. yukhei runs his fingers through his messy, _messy_ brown hair, and thinks to himself that for how much he’d missed this, he’s already grown used to it again — holding mark while he sleeps, watching his eyebrows furrow and his lips part as he dreams, safe and sound inside yukhei’s embrace. 

yukhei doesn’t think they’re going to talk about it, but he hopes that mark lee won’t run away again, this time; that he’ll get to see him just like this for many days on end now, that he’ll get to kiss his cheeks while he fights off sleep and to tickle his sides when he tries to stay in bed way past the time the alarm goes off.

but this time, when mark finally opens his precious round, sparkly eyes, something feels different. he stares up at yukhei dazedly for what feels like forever but is probably no more than five seconds, like there’s no other thing he’d rather see first thing in the morning, and then he’s leaning forward to press their lips together, morning breath and all, into the slowest kiss yukhei remembers. 

it feels too close to heaven — he’s scared he’s still dreaming.

“good morning,” yukhei giggles against mark’s cheek, when he moves his lips to his jaw. “why’re you so cute today, hm?”

mark laughs softly, then, pulling back so he can look at yukhei with his mischievous eyes and pointy smile. yukhei loves him and loves him and loves him again.

“i’m always cute, what do you mean?” mark grins, manoeuvring himself until he’s perched on yukhei’s lap and then leaning down against his chest again. yukhei places his hand on his back, running soothing circles over the bare bumps of his spine, and a beat passes before mark speaks again; softer this time, like he’s afraid anyone will hear. “thank you,” he whispers, and yukhei feels it against his clavicle, “i don’t deserve you.”

yukhei’s chest feels tight again, and he moves his free hand to card through mark’s hair in the way he knows he loves the most. 

“what are you talking about?” yukhei asks, then, because it hurts to hear mark talking about himself like that. “dude, i’m like, the biggest idiot out there. if anything, it’s _me_ that doesn’t deserve you, silly. you’re too good for me.”

mark shoots up, then, sitting up on top of yukhei with eyes hard and his jaw set. 

yukhei did not think they’d talk about it, but he reckons that, sometimes, he ends up being wrong.

“yukhei,” mark starts, and his voice doesn’t waver this time. “i was an asshole to you and you know it. you didn’t even have to forgive me for what i did, yet here we are, like i haven’t made you suffer all this time,” yukhei looks away at that, because he never wanted mark to know how miserable he’s been all along. “taeyong hyung said you barely even came out of your room, and whatever it is that’s been going through my head does not excuse what i’ve put you through.”

yukhei wonders how taeyong knew that for a moment, but it was probably johnny or someone who told him about it, and so he sighs and shakes his head, sitting up as well so he can face him properly. 

“look, mark,” he starts, and it feels huge, to finally acknowledge his feelings in front of the boy he loves the most in the whole entire world, “i won’t lie, alright? it’s been fucking shitty, man. you just, _disappeared_ , you know, and at first i didn’t understand what i’d done wrong. but then i figured that i had scared you, because we promised to be just friends and i fell for you so hard that it was hard to breathe, sometimes, and i never, _ever_ blamed you for it.”

“that’s why,” mark chuckles sadly, shaking his head, “you’re too good to me, yukhei. you should hate me, you really should. i’m such an asshole, and it all is my fault and my fault only.”

“don’t say that,” yukhei’s voice turns stern. “you were scared, mark, and that’s something i understand. dude, you saw how much i panicked the first day, when i told you all that i’d kissed a boy in high school. you have no idea how difficult it was for me to sleep after it happened, back home — i was _terrified_ , and you know how differently from you i’ve been raised.”

mark looks down for a moment, then, and yukhei sees him as delicate as a tiny flower, as hurt as his own heart. love is about allowing yourself to be vulnerable, too, and so he reaches across to gently hold his hand with his own, thumb rubbing circles on its back. 

“i,” mark huffs, like he’s angry that he can’t quite get his voice to stabilise, “you know the first time we kissed? when i ran away?” _how could i forget_ , yukhei laughs to himself, _when you changed my life just like that_. “i was so fucking scared, man, not because i’d kissed you, but because i’d been aching to do it for ages. and when it happened, i don’t know, i thought i was going to fucking _die_ or something, and i went crying to taeyong hyung and he took me home and talked to me for hours until i fell asleep.”

yukhei stills his hand on mark’s back, his other one squeezing at his hand gently, and he wonders, briefly, if mark is able to hear the way his heart breaks one more time because of him; the tiny piece being smashed one more time, because knowing that mark’s been aching so much because of this is almost unbearable. 

“markie,” yukhei coos, as if mark were a little lion he could scare with the mere sound of his voice, “it’s all fine, you were scared. i understand.”

“i was,” mark sighs, and it’s a frustrated little sound, “but then it all was perfect, you know? i was so happy with you, and you never, ever did anything to hurt me, and then suddenly it felt like i couldn’t accept all that you gave me because… because i shouldn’t have liked you in the first place, but i did and i just. taeyong hyung says i can like guys and girls too, and like, i _know_ i can, because lots of you do and i don’t _think_ it’s wrong, but when it came to me… it was terrifying, dude,” he shakes his head, and there are tears welling up in his eyes; pearls yukhei aches to wipe away, a pain he wishes he could numb with his fingertips. “but then… then i saw you again, when i woke up after the night i got sick and i just…”

yukhei does not know what mark was going to say, next, because something inside him flips with the force of a tsunami, and suddenly staying still is too much of an effort he cannot be bothered to make anyway. because hope, damn, hope is the strongest force in the universe, with how enormous it feels inside him, like pure adrenaline running through his veins. 

not everything is lost, mark’s words have silently told him, and so yukhei indulges himself this time — wonders if there’s a chance for him to love him, if there’s a happy ending to this all.

he reaches forward, free hand carefully gripping mark’s chin before he presses their lips together in a slow, gentle kiss — as if like this he could tell him everything he doesn’t know how to voice, as if it were enough to quest mark’s fears, as if love was the answer to all of his questions and god, does yukhei wish it is.

mark kisses him back, then, hands closed into fists against yukhei’s chest, where he can surely feel his heart hammering against hard muscle, desperate for him, wild and untamed. he kisses him back, and then yukhei feels wetness against his cheek, a stray tear falling from mark’s closed eyes, and he cannot stop himself from what he says next. 

“i love you so much,” yukhei tells him, lips so close together that mark can make out the shape of every syllable against his mouth, “i always have, because you’re my best friend and will always be, but i- i’m so in love with you, mark lee, and i hope you’ll never doubt for a second that i do, and that you deserve it, because there’s never been someone quite like you for me.”

mark’s back goes rigid where he’s still sitting on yukhei’s lap, like a current of electricity going through his spine, and yukhei wonders if this is it — the final straw, the last thing left to blow up, the moment where mark lee finally walks out of his life, after seeing everything, after receiving it all. 

for a long while, he says nothing, and yukhei can feel it underneath his fingertips when mark starts to tremble, like it’s all too much, like there’s no going back. there probably isn’t, yukhei thinks bitterly, and so he does not reculate.

“you don’t have to want me like that, you know,” yukhei says, then, because he can’t stand the thought of hurting mark, “i’ll always want to be with you, one way or another, and i-”

“fuck,” mark outright sobs, eyes downcast and face hidden underneath his mop of hair, and it takes yukhei by surprise, “how can you, god, how can you say that. how can you say you love me like that, when i can’t even bring myself to form the words because you drive me fucking _crazy_ , you idiot.”

the back of his mouth tastes pink — of cotton candy, of cosmos and hyacinths, of salvation. yukhei tastes heaven, and for that he’ll never be regretful. 

“i can,” yukhei says, the wide smile creeping into his mouth threatening to tear his face with the force of it, “because i _love_ you, mark lee. i love you and i love you and i love you again, so get it through that thick head of yours.”

“you fucking _idiot_ ,” mark laughs, all choked up and teary eyed, hands shaky as he grips yukhei’s cheeks and brings him close until they can press their noses together. “i do, too, you know i do. i love you, and i don’t care- i don’t care what anyone says, or what _god_ says, for fucks sake.”

and yukhei does not really know what it all means, what it implies; if mark is telling him he’s finally his, because his brain is in overdrive and all he can think about is holding his hand and kissing him stupid in front of the whole world to see, but he’s so happy with the dawning realisation that mark is not going to disappear again that he decides that it all was worth it, in the end.

yukhei kisses mark again, and the sky does not come crashing down and lighting does not strike them and tears it all down to shreds.

greed may be a sin, but love —

love is always the answer; what so many died for, what so many die without. overall, yukhei is grateful he gets to finally embrace it, and so he laughs against mark’s lips and then remembers what it feels like to come undone under his hands again.

(“i told my mom about you, you know,” mark says later, warm cup of coffee between his hands, one of yukhei’s shirts falling down his dainty shoulder. it’s way more important than he makes it sound like. “she said, well. she said she always saw it coming, with how i could never stop talking about you, and she did not really sound angry when i told her so… i guess it’s not all lost. i hope she prays for me,” he giggles, and yukhei feels starstruck. 

“you told your mom you like me?” he asks, incredulous, because it sounds surreal despite everything. 

mark laughs again, shaking his head as he watches him with shiny eyes — yukhei will write sonnets about them some day.

“nope,” he grins, “i told her i was in love, and that it all has been worth it because of you.”

the earth shifts on its axis again, and yukhei —

yukhei falls with the motion, back down in bed with mark lee, and he kisses him and kisses him until coffee spills and laughs reverberate across the walls.)

⋇

it feels good, yukhei’s tipsy mind considers, to be able to kiss mark without having to hide, without worrying about who might see. 

yukhei’s hands feel right at home where they rest on the small of mark’s back as they dance together, wide smiles so close that it takes less than a second for them to press their lips together in a kiss, the bass of the loud music making their feet tingle. 

next to them, from where everyone is dancing together, yuta and kunhang whistle at them, and a choir of laughter resonates across the dancefloor then. yukhei moves his hand away from mark’s body just as the shorter does the same, giving them the finger before they pull away from each other.

he and mark have never talked about it, but after admitting to each other the magnitude of their feelings and putting a stop to their stupid game of hide-and-seek, it became a matter of time until they started referring to each other as _boyfriends_. 

yukhei wishes he could say their friends had been surprised. ten let out the loudest sigh of relief _ever_ when yukhei finally told him he and mark had made up, and then proceeded to explain how tired everyone was that they’d ended coming up with the plan to lock them in together until they talked. sicheng just giggled, cheekily announcing to the room that _he’d already seen it coming_ , and dejun and kunhang clapped their hands in delight because they make _such a good couple, hyung, we all wanted this to happen!_. kun had been pleased, because _it’s obvious mark makes you happy, xuxi_ , and yangyang had grinned like a wolf stalking his prey as he told them about his bets with renjun about when it’d happen.

there’d been one surprise to still be had, though, when all their friends agreed to go out together on the last night before finals season starts, because _that_ yukhei would’ve never imagined happening again. 

everything seems to be rolling just fine, tonight, and it warms the inside of yukhei’s chest in such a way that he feels like there’s nothing else he needs in the world, right now. jeno and doyoung haven’t stopped talking since they met inside the club, and jungwoo and jaemin are desperately trying to come up with a plan to regain their attention. yuta and sicheng are talking, too, like they’ve finally realised friendship isn’t worth breaking over past wounds; they might not be in love, but they never really fought, and so it’s better like this. yangyang introduces renjun and donghyuck to dejun and kunhang, and the sight makes yukhei a little uneasy at the dangerous potential of it all, but then mark lee is tugging on one of his belt loops and yukhei’s attention is undividedly focused on him. 

“hey, handsome,” mark giggles, and he sounds a little tipsy, too. yukhei is so in love, “wanna come to the bathroom with me?”

yukhei laughs, as if he’d ever be able to say no to any of mark’s crazy, crazy ideas that have lately been closer to exhibitionism than any of them would like to admit, and he nods his head before holding his hand and letting himself be led. 

“yukhei, mark!” johnny calls right as they start moving, and so they stop in their tracks. “dude, don’t tell me you’re leaving already.”

“hyung,” mark chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully. “we’re just going to the bathroom… for a moment.”

“oh, no,” johnny says, then, like it makes his blood run cold. yukhei thinks he’s cute, “dude, no, man! don’t go to the bathroom, it’s… unhygienic.”

yukhei barely stifles a chuckle. mark lee outright _laughs_.

“you wanted me to suck his dick again so badly, now you gotta deal with it!” mark calls back over his shoulder as they resume their walk, and yukhei slaps his shoulder as his ears tint red. 

yukhei thinks of johnny on the same exact second they make it to the bathroom, already making out before they’re pushing the door open, because for all he’s got he wishes he’d never had to witness such a _sight_. 

yukhei’s jaw drops in surprise. mark lets out the loudest gasp he’s ever mustered and stares at the scene with eyes so wide open yukhei’s afraid they’ll fall out of their orbits. 

“shit!” lee taeyong shrieks, and well. 

_shit_ , indeed.

“what the hell!” mark almost yells, positively vibrating in yukhei’s arms, just as johnny comes up running after them looking like he regrets every single one of his life choices. 

“i tried to warn you two not to come here,” he hisses, eyes avoiding at all costs looking into the small room.

“you knew about this?!” mark sounds horrified

“hey, what do you mean if he knew about this! what do you think of me as? johnny’s my best friend!” taeyong cries out, outraged at the mere suggestion of him hiding something from johnny.

“and you’re fine with it?” mark asks johnny, eyes wide.

“yeah, i mean, we’re seriously over it now-”

“i’m not a family wrecker, dude,” ten rolls his eyes, then, and he finally takes his hand out of the front of taeyong’s pants. “we’ve been hooking up for like, months now.”

“months?!” yukhei shouts in unison with mark, and it sounds so distraught that they all break down laughing, then, for a lack of a better thing to do. “hyung! you never told me!”

“oh my god, of course i didn’t! what would you have done if you knew i was banging taeyong, when you told me all the _mark drama_ and he knew all the _yukhei drama_ , huh?” ten shoots, straightening out his shirt. 

yukhei’s face flushes. beside him, mark squeezes his hand as he turns into a similar shade of red. 

“yeah, we, um,” taeyong laughs shyly, trying to make himself look presentable despite the evident tent on the front of his jeans, “we… knew everything, actually. so it was not like we could just tell.”

“wait, so are you two like, a thing?” mark asks, incredulous as ever, like he still can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. yukhei can’t blame him.

taeyong squeals, and ten laughs gently and squeezes his hand where it’s resting on taeyong’s waist, teasing. 

“are we, taeyongie?” ten coos, and it gains him a playful slap on the arm. “i guess we’ll see, when the time comes.”

“we’re leaving right now,” taeyong announces, giving them a quick look before glaring at johnny. “you had one job and you fucked up!”

“dude, i tried!” johnny whines, but they’re all walking out already, leaving mark and yukhei alone in the bathroom. 

it’s quiet for a few moments, then, while they try to assimilate what just happened. it’s mark who chuckles first, shaking his head as he rests his back against the door. 

“can you believe it? they’re the _worst_ ,” he huffs, pressing his lips together in the most adorable pout, and yukhei’s already tempted.

he presses a soft kiss to them, and then another one, until they’re making out again, away from everyone; just them inside the same club bathroom where mark trusted yukhei enough to see past his walls, enough to let him back in into his life, where it all started all over again.

and as they kiss each other stupid just like that, yukhei thinks that this is just the beginning, but it feels like closure, sort of.

(because finals will come and pass, and things will change next year because change is inevitable and it’s what keeps the world turning, despite friendships and relationships, despite time zones and country borders, and it’s not always a bad thing although it _can_ be. 

but when september comes again, dejun and kunhang will room together again, same beds on the fourth floor, a flourishing friendship with renjun, donghyuck, jeno and jaemin pulling them into more fun adventures all over again; and ten and taeyong will call each other by endearing pet names, and nobody will bat an eye at it; and yuta will get a girlfriend and move into an apartment near campus with johnny, jungwoo, taeyong and doyoung, and he’ll stay friends with sicheng because maturity comes with age and experience; and yangyang will meet chenle and jisung and it all will feel alright, at last, like they’re finally complete, twenty-one people hanging out in the hyung’s tiny ass apartment like there’s no other place on earth where they all should be.

and when september comes again, in seoul just like it does in vancouver and hong kong, mark will be waiting for yukhei at the airport, bright white flowers in his hand and key to their shared room well kept inside his pocket; and yukhei will kiss him like he hasn’t had anything to drink for months and he’s an oasis in the middle of the desert, and then they’ll ride a taxi to the dorms together and a new year will start all over again, a new beginning, endless possibilities and crazy dreams within the reach of a hand. 

“dude,” mark will laugh in the backstage, nervous fingers tuning his guitar as he gets ready to give his first concert in a small in-campus bar, newly written songs memorised by heart, “how did we end up here?”

and yukhei will press a kiss to his temple, right by his brow, big hands smoothing down his wild hair as he says, heart out in his sleeve. 

“who knows,” with a soft laugh, heart eyes as mark places a hand on his chest, right over his heart. “but there’s no one else i’d rather be with, mark lee.”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! congratulations, you made it to the end!!!! i hope the journey was worth it, and that you enjoyed seeing what yukhei and mark go through until they reach their ending that is more of a beginning than anything else. 
> 
> at last, i wanted to thank every single one of you who’s dedicated a little time of their day to read what i had to write. getting to read your comments and seeing you like this fic has really brought me a big amount of happiness, and i hope that i’ve been up to your expectations with the end of this fic.
> 
> i hope we’ll get to see each other soon!!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!!! please leave kudos and/or comment if you enjoyed it, and you can find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/hanniecuqui) <3


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